The campsite was quiet when he returned. Both bikes were parked—so, Loz had managed to wrangle the unmanageable baby back. Yazoo was relieved.
He heard the slight, snuffling snore of Loz as he wept in his sleep, doubtlessly dreaming of Mother, or maybe of Kadaj's ire. He spied the slender, rigid form of the baby standing furthest from the camp, his back to his brothers as he stared up at the moon.
Yazoo silently moved behind him, feeling the familiar affection unique to the baby flushing his chest with warmth.
"You stink," the baby said, sullen, his arms crossed tightly over his chest. He gave a delicate sniff and shot Yazoo a dark look over one slim shoulder. "You stink like that creature."
Yazoo did, indeed, detect a faint remnant of her perfume, spicy and sweet.
"It's a pleasant scent," he softly said, keeping his voice soothing. "And she was a pleasant distraction."
"We don't need distractions!" the baby snapped, tensing. "We only need each other!"
"Kadaj," Yazoo said, gentle, putting his arm loosely around the boy's slim waist and pressing his temple to the baby's.
"Don't change," the baby whispered, his voice strained. He covered Yazoo's hand with his own, fingers holding tight. His little chin dropped and he took a shaky breath.
"It can't be stopped," Yazoo told him, drawing the baby into his full embrace.
"I don't want it!" Kadaj cried, anguished. "I don't want you both to leave me!"
"We wouldn't," Yazoo assured him.
Kadaj trembled a little, his delicate features suffused with melancholy. "What is it?" he asked, doubt drawing his brows together. "I don't understand…"
Yazoo pondered him in the faint light. In these moments when he was tranquil and soft, Kadaj's beauty bordered on frightening. Without even realizing exactly what they'd been doing, the trio had been seducing others all along—Kadaj the most of all. The thought of him intentionally controlling that power was daunting to his elder brother. Who would have the strength to deny Kadaj anything?
"Little tyrant," Yazoo affectionately said, cupping the baby's soft cheek. Kadaj's eyes swept closed and he leaned into his hand, soothed by his brother's nearness.
They'd had so very little of their own all of their lives—really just one another. He understood the baby's possessiveness, recognized it from his own memories of the man they were made from. A possessiveness that jealously and madly guarded whatever it perceived as its own. How often had a trifle been tossed into their cell only to be pounced on by the baby, ready to fight to the death for it, hissing, 'Mine!' in his high baby's voice?
"You have his memories, too," Yazoo reminded. "This was a large part of what he was."
Sephiroth the seducer, who used his glorious body when arguments and fighting failed.
Kadaj looked at him with sad, lost eyes.
"I'm afraid," he whispered, a tremor running through his slender form. "I don't want to lose myself."
"You're Kadaj," Yazoo told him, pressing his forehead to the baby's, their jade eyes meeting. "You'll always be you. But sometimes it is nice to share yourself with someone, as Loz and I have done."
Baby's features twisted into a pretty grimace and he said with haughty authority, "Then you share with me—you're my brothers, not theirs! You belong to me, and I don't share!"
Yazoo laughed a little, absently licking off the blood when Kadaj sourly bit his lip. The baby despised being laughed at.
"How well we know that, koishii," Yazoo said, still chuckling.
"You won't leave me?" Kadaj questioned, always so uncertain of them. That was Mother's doing, she who never loved Kadaj because he was Kadaj, making the baby doubtful of how loveable he was, how worthy he was to live, how important he was to others. He leaned up and kissed Yazoo again, sucking the blood from the nipped flesh, clinging desperately to his safety.
'He doesn't understand,' Yazoo reminded himself, letting the baby kiss him until he was content, surprised at the sudden flare that came from the fire his lover had stoked in him. So…women, men, even brothers…
"Tsk," baby made his frustrated sound. "Don't leave me!" He tucked his face into the crook of Yazoo's neck, hiding beneath the heavy hair as he had as a little child.
"There will always be others, Kadaj," Yazoo said, holding him securely. "But you will always be first—we will never leave you."
"But you'll love them," Kadaj accused, and sobbed softly. All they had in the world was each other and though love was a new concept to the trio, they had immediately understood it as the feeling they had for each other. Leave it to the baby—who craved love and attention like others craved food—to make that leap in logic, to equate flesh with emotion.
"Nonsense," Yazoo crooned, surprised by the very thought of it. "I love you and Loz alone, koishii. It will always be so."
"But you love me more," the baby stubbornly insisted, wanting to prove his point to himself.
Yazoo smiled, squeezing the baby close.
"Of course," he said. "Can you sleep now?"
The baby made a soft sound and allowed Yazoo to lead him over to Loz's sleeping form. They lay down together, Loz rolling over to cuddle to the baby's back. Yazoo lay on his side, arm over the both of them, the baby snuggled to his chest and belly.
"It's alright now, little koishii," Loz said, his voice heavy with sleep.
Kadaj burrowed his nose into Yazoo's chest and sighed. Wrapped in the warmth and closeness of his brothers, he drifted off to sleep.