Title - Left Out
Author - Rina
Rating - M
Pairing - Kadaj/Yazoo, Loz/Yazoo, Kadaj/Loz, eventual threesome Kadaj/Loz/Yazoo
Warning - This fic contains incest; brothers having a willing sexual relationship. If you find the idea distasteful please do not read.
Disclaimer - I do not own Final Fantasy 7: Advent Children, nor any of the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story. I did not create these silver haired men however I wish to thank those who did because they're simply stunning!

Author's Note - I noticed that poor old Loz seems to get forgotten about in this fandom so I have set out to change that. I think he's awesome. :)

***

Chapter one.

They're doing it again.

Always when they think I'm asleep and don't know what they're up to. Yeah, like I wouldn't notice. I may not be the smartest guy on the planet but it's kind of hard to miss what's happening behind me. Well, to tell the truth, I'm not exactly sure what is going on, not in explicit detail, however, I have a fair idea. They're trying not to move too much or be too loud in case they wake me but it's a bit late for that. I've been awake since before they even began.

Back in our lair in the Forgotten City, we all sleep in the same bed. And why shouldn't we? We all share the same blood, the same molecular structure, the same mimetic legacy. We're remnants, replicas, experiments; whatever you want to call us. Our ages vary, with me being the oldest, but I like to think that if we'd been conceived the normal way we would have all been born together, as triplets. This is how we would have slept in the womb, inside of our Mother. Just the three of us, all tangled up contentedly like snakes in a burrow.

A lot of the time I wake before them and just lie there with my eyes shut, enjoying the intimacy of having arms and legs weaved through mine, warm bodies pressed against me and silken hair lying across my skin. That's when I feel really close to them, when I feel like I belong, that I am part of something great and special and unique.

That and when we fight. We all have different weapons and different fighting skills but when we band together to take on the enemy in battle it's like we merge into one being of attack, working together as one perfect machine with one objective. We know what we are each thinking, what we are each about to do, as if we are inside one other's minds. If one of us is in trouble or we need help, we get it, defending each other without needing to ask for it or be asked. I am them, they are me. We are one. That makes me happy too.

But I'm not happy right now. Not when they do this behind my back. Not when they purposefully leave me out. I feel ignored, unwanted and unneeded. I know I could say something; I could turn over, I could easily interrupt them and make them stop but at the same time I don't want to. I'm disgusted with myself but in a perverse way I enjoy knowing that they're touching mere inches from where I am.

It excites me.

Whatever they're doing to each other, it sounds like it feels really good judging by Yazoo's stilted breaths and Kadaj's quiet grunts. There are other noises too, wet slippery noises, and hearing their forbidden pleasure turns me on enormously. My body responds to every whisper of sound that reaches my ears, my flesh tingling as if it is me they are caressing. I am lying on my front, facing towards the stone wall and there is an aching hardness underneath me, crushed beneath my stomach, my undershorts and the king-sized bed with its black satin sheets. Every time the mattress jiggles with their careful movements it sends a white-hot jolt right through my core and I have to bite my lip to keep from groaning. I try to regulate my breathing, keeping it slow and steady the way it would be if I was actually still asleep. I'm desperate for physical relief but I'll have to wait until they are finished and out of bed before I can do anything about it. I'll make a dash for the shower and take care of it there, like I usually do, my tugging fist and sobs of release masked by the hissing spray of water. Until then I will just have to suffer quietly and hope they hurry it up.

Unseen behind me, Kadaj does something to make Yazoo moan, a low velvety sound that slides over me and coils around my swollen masculinity like a hand. I bite my lip harder.

"Shh," Kadaj urges under his breath. "Brother is sleeping."

Yazoo moans again but this time it's muted, like something is over his mouth. Most likely Kadaj's palm, without the black glove that normally covers it. Their full-length leather outfits are hung over the back of a chair and there's nothing between my two siblings but naked skin. So pale. So flawless. I know because I've studied it. Admired it. Without them knowing, of course. I admire a lot of things about them; their slim figures, feathery eyelashes and long hair. They're pretty. Generally, I loathe to use the word and think so-called pretty things such as flowers, perfume or butterflies are gross and revolting but I can't help finding Kadaj and Yazoo both confusingly attractive. They're like girls. Only so not. They are hard and vicious and would bust your skull open if you dared to suggest they are anything other than male.

Is it abnormal to lust after your own brothers? To think of them as hot? Is that wrong? I mean, I know I'm one of the bad guys and spend a lot of my time shooting at people or punching them in the face but even I have some level of morality. Not much, mind you, just enough to know that what's happening here probably shouldn't be.

And yet I'm still lusting. It doesn't help that Yazoo keeps moaning in that muffled way, at the back of his throat, like he's sucking on Kadaj's fingers or perhaps Kadaj is pushing them into his mouth and back out again. The imagined scenes that flicker in front of my closed eyelids are obscenely tantalising and I yearn to turn around and watch for real but I'm afraid. I'm afraid that they'll be mad at me for listening like this, for furtively eavesdropping on their private moment and even more disgracefully, getting off on it.

The wet slippery noises increase.

"Yes," Kadaj whispers coaxingly, my level of anticipation rising even higher.

"Yes...Now."

A stifled gasp is accidentally let go and the bed quakes, as though somebody is shuddering on it, each ripple of motion utter torment against my painfully aroused body, causing me to wince and very nearly whimper. I could grind my hips into the mattress and let myself climax that way in a matter of seconds but I couldn't do it without them noticing and I'm humiliated enough as it is. At least it's finally over. The noises have stopped, except for fast breathing. I just need to wait a little longer and they'll get up and get dressed, leaving me alone with my burning shame.

After a few still minutes someone moves and the sheet pulls tighter across me, the harmless fabric seeming to rasp like sandpaper across the heightened nerve-endings in my skin. There is a contented sigh – I'm not quite sure who from – and then gentle smacking sounds.

Kissing sounds.

Jealousy explodes through me and my pulse thuds furiously in my ears. My eyes fly open and I glower at the smooth rock wall in front of me, feeling my face twist into a mask of rage. I can handle not being part of whatever moist, squishy thing they were doing before but knowing that my brothers are giving each other secret kisses is like a knife to my gut because they've never given them to me. Not once.

"Stop it," I grit out from clenched teeth, incapable of holding it in any longer. "Stop doing that!"

I hurl the bedclothes aside and turn over in anger, finding the two of them broken apart, Kadaj gazing at me in mild astonishment, half his face hidden by the ever-present curtain of his hair. He is propped up on his side behind Yazoo, who is absently licking his lips. Kadaj's hand is on Yazoo's shoulder. The glossy ebony sheet is gathered around their waists, their chests bare and white, reflecting the faint light of dawn making its gradual way into our sleeping chamber.

"Looks like we woke brother after all," Kadaj comments, not appearing sorry in the least. In fact, he appears rather amused by my reaction and this makes me even angrier.

"I hate you," I growl at Kadaj but my words don't have the cutting effect I intended. He simply smiles at me, like I'm some dumb kid.

"No, you don't."

"I do. I hate you both," I say, glaring at Yazoo, trying to take that cool, half-interested look off his far-too-feminine face. It doesn't work, either.

"And why do you hate us, hmm?" Kadaj patiently asks, clearly indulging me which only adds to my frustration.

"Because you never pay any attention to me. It's like I'm not even here sometimes." Unable to contain myself, I blurt out, "I wish I'd never been cloned at all!"

I roll back over, burrowing into the pillow as tears start to escape, spilling angrily down my screwed-up face.

"Oh, Loz," Kadaj scolds exasperatedly. "Are you crying again?"

"No," I sulk, rubbing at my eyes.

"Yes, you are. You're such a baby." His voice is filled with mockery and the fact that Kadaj is making fun of me at a time like this makes me hate him even more. With a roar, I whip around and lunge at him, wanting to choke him until his face turns purple but Yazoo springs to his defence, grabbing my arms and wrestling my outstretched hands away. I struggle against my surprisingly strong middle brother while Kadaj laughs, obviously finding this hugely entertaining. Pissed off with the pair of them, I yank my arm back and lash out, slapping Yazoo across the face and throwing his head to the side, his hair spinning in a platinum arc. Immediately, I regret it and freeze in shocked silence. Kadaj has even stopped laughing. I've never hit either of them before. I didn't mean to but I was annoyed at Yazoo for getting in the way and my bad temper got the better of me. I stare guiltily as he slowly turns back around. He's cradling his cheek, looking wounded. I want to tell him I'm sorry but my tongue is all tied up and besides, I'd probably only say something to make the situation worse. I'm not good with…you know, words.

While I'm sitting there uselessly wishing I could rewind the last thirty seconds, Yazoo's hand shoots out and catches me around the neck, startling me. I'm too frightened to move as he brings his face close to mine, his aqua-green gaze sharp and penetrating like laser beams.

"Now, that was a very silly thing to do," he murmurs in his melodious, almost sing-song voice but the deceptively placid tone hides a venomous warning. "I wouldn't try it again if I were you."

He squeezes his fingers threateningly, starting to restrict my air supply. "Do you understand me?"

I nod jerkily, eyes widening in panic. "I understand," I gasp.

He gives a satisfied, "Humph," and lets me go. I rub my neck and gulp. Yazoo doesn't talk much but when he does, you damn well take notice.

Showing no concern for me, Kadaj moves Yazoo's lengthy hair aside, inspecting his face for any damage. There's a red handprint on his milky skin but I haven't broken anything and there's no blood. Kadaj kisses him comfortingly on the cheekbone and at the protective display of affection I feel my eyes starting to fill with tears again.

"What's wrong with you today?" Kadaj seems genuinely puzzled with my behaviour. "Are you upset because we haven't found Mother yet?"

"Kind of," I admit with a miserable sniff. "But that's not all of it."

"Well, what is it, then? And try to tell us without sobbing this time."

I scowl at him for the unnecessary sarcasm but manage to keep my emotions under check.

"I think you don't care about me the way you care about each other."

"Don't be stupid," Kadaj returns dismissively. "We care about you. Very much." He turns to my other brother. "Don't we, Yazoo?"

"Yes," Yazoo answers, gazing at me with sympathetic softness, my slap seemingly forgotten. "We do."

"It doesn't feel like that," I grumble. "I'm the odd one out. I ain't pretty and smart and elegant like you guys. I'm big and I'm rough and I'm only here to provide muscle. That's all I'm good for. That and obeying orders. You don't really need me."

"You sell yourself far too short, Loz." My younger brother musingly cocks his head at me, his shoulder-length hair swinging heavily as he moves, as if it's wet or made of something other than hair, such as fine strands of metal. "And we do need you."

"Yeah?" I retort. "Then why don't you ever touch me like that?"

I gesture to where his fingers are curled around Yazoo's upper arm, lightly stroking with his thumb. Kadaj glances down at this unconscious caress and then exchanges a meaningful look with Yazoo. A slow smirk settles on Kadaj's softly-curved lips as he regards me speculatively.

"Careful what you wish for, brother."