Author's Note: Disclaimer found below.

This starts out written fast n' vague, since it was originally not supposed to get as long as it did. It gets more detailed the further it goes. So, um... sorry about the stylistic variability?

Warning: There's sex and sexual situations in here. It's mostly vague, but it's definitely there, definitely homosexual in nature, and, well, technically it's underage (legally speaking, anyway). If that bothers you, you probably shouldn't be reading this.

This chapter is for Sharkcowsheep, who said, of porny fluff,

"Magnificent. Pluck it forth like a pouf of lint from a clothes dryer that only dries clothes made of sex."

Human Behavior

"Tell me what happened."

"I... I failed, sir."

"Again."

"I failed, sir."

"Correct. Your target was eliminated, but you failed to protect Twelve. And what error led to your failure, Eleven?"

"I could not move quickly enough, sir."

The world was good. They had only to perform the tasks they were given, endure the tests and treatments, and they were nearly always allowed the entire night to themselves. Time to rest, time to be together. Time to explore.

They found that there was a wide variety of reactions that they could cause in each other simply by touching, and nearly all of them bore repeating. They smiled for each other alone, spoke little but for the small sounds of want or acknowledgement that they made for each other. Held each other and moved together and were happy.

They figured out some really nice things to do with mouths. Fingers, too. Lots of things to do, eventually.

The first time he used his mouth on Yazoo was the first time that Loz heard his voice at anything more than a murmur. It was intoxicating; Loz made sure to try for that response as often as he could. Of course, Yazoo did likewise, though getting the same level of sound out of Loz didn't seem to be as difficult.

The scientists stopped bothering to talk to them again. Some of them were obviously distressed over what was going on, but most of them didn't seem to care. Interesting and useful things began to appear in their room, so it was probable that at least one of the scientists thought it best to encourage them.

They became even more deadly together. Eventually, even the highest-level monsters thrown at them presented no challenge, and the techs began to let loose two creatures at once. But between Yazoo with his short sword and Loz with his pilebunker, nothing could stand in their way. Each fight refined them further, their motions together becoming a sharp-edged dance.

Sometimes they didn't even make it out of the training room, after killing something particularly difficult. The heat from fighting was so similar to the heat they caused in each other that they'd be tearing at each others' clothing even before the body of whatever they'd fought went still. Messy, but good.

And then after, there was cleaning up, and that became a delightfully time-consuming trap as well. The sight and feel of their naked bodies together was more than either of them could resist. It didn't even occur to them to try to resist.

The techs were always upgrading some part of the facility; heavier doors, better shielding spells, more surveillance cameras. Just in case, they said.

Eventually, they were given a monster that was difficult to take down - or rather, a set of monsters, three creatures of various elemental capabilities. They'd taken down the smaller two to stop their spell casting, and were moving on to the third, closing in on it from either side...

It lashed unexpectedly, moved in a way it shouldn't have been able to. Loz saw it happening, saw the spiked tail swinging, reached out - but couldn't move quickly enough.

The most horrible sound he'd ever heard was the crunch of Yazoo's body hitting the sculpted false-rock of the outcrop they'd lured the monster toward.

Loz screamed and threw himself at the monster, unexpected curls of indigo fire flaring over his left arm; the uppercut delivered to the thing's jaw had more force than physics could provide behind it, even with the pilebunker. The side of the beast's head opposite the point of contact exploded.

He didn't even watch the massive body fall. He only turned away, stumbled toward Yazoo's still form. He collapsed next to him, turned him from his side to his back, pawed ineffectually at the blood in his hair and whimpered. Unable to speak, but for one word. "Yazoo?"

The short sword was snapped in two, the blade lodged in the outcrop and the grip still in Yazoo's hand.

He wanted... something. Wanted some sort of movement, wanted the pale lips to part, the long-lashed eyes to open, but there was nothing. There shouldn't be nothing...

The fact that he didn't know what crying was didn't mean that he didn't do it. All he knew was that it hurt, and his eyes burned, and that Yazoo wasn't moving.

The technicians were shocked when they got to the entrance of the room - Loz was already there, carrying Yazoo cradled against him. He laid the slight form on the waiting gurney and stood back a little, then followed as the techs took off toward the operating theater that the healer had been called to. He hung back, but followed, and not a one of the techs dared tell him not to.

It only took two Cure spells to ensure recovery. Yazoo hadn't been badly injured, only knocked unconscious.

One of the technicians turned, sighted Loz standing at the side of the room, hugging himself as though in a vain attempt to make himself smaller. Eyes wide and reddened.

"You don't have to cry," she said, taking a few steps toward him. "He'll be fine. Just let him rest."

None of the other techs had ever spoken to either of them before for anything other than relaying orders. Loz could only blink at her in surprise.

Never did see her again.

"I could not move quickly enough, sir." Loz stood at ease in front of his commander, and swallowed uncomfortably. At least they'd permitted him to remain at Yazoo's side until he'd regained consciousness. Yazoo had smiled at him, and he'd wanted to cry again and never leave, but all he'd done was smile back.

And then he'd immediately been ordered here.

"That is correct," the stern man in front of him nodded. His hair was silver too, but by age rather than design. "We have determined a course of action to correct this problem." He opened a small box on the desk behind him, lifting out a softly glowing, pale green orb. He balanced it on the tips of his fingers in front of him. "Do you know what this is?"

"Yes, sir. Materia, sir."

"That is correct. You have been instructed in the use of Materia?"

"Yes, sir."

"You'll be able to cast Haste on yourself with this." He handed Loz the Materia. "See to it that you're not too slow again, Eleven. You may go."

Current Music: Human Behavior by Bjork

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