Disclaimer: "The Show Must Go On" and "Don't Stop Me Now" are performed and recorded by Queen. Final Fantasy IX is the creation and property of Square Co., Ltd. This is a not-for-profit fanwork and I do not own any of these characters.
NOTE: There is a lemon scene at the end of this chapter that has been omitted due to rating. Visit my site (link in profile) for the uncut verison of this chapter.
The Show Must Go On
Ch. 6: Don't Stop Me Now
Despite his moniker of "Angel of Death," Kuja had never particularly relished killing. He'd done it because it was what was expected of him, and he was good at it. But as he stood over the body of his fallen foe, a foul smelling Gnoll, he felt a weird mix of pride and apprehension. Pride, because Zidane was clapping him on the shoulder and congratulating him on the improvement in his fighting ability that had allowed him, for the first time, to take down an enemy in melee combat, by himself. And apprehension, because now that he'd proven himself in combat, Zidane was that much closer to leaving.
As if reading his counterpart's mind, Zidane cheerfully said, "Now I don't have to worry about your safety when I'm not around!"
Kuja forced a smile onto his face, not wanting to ruin the mood. But his heart was pounding from more than the adrenaline of battle. It was clear the thief wanted to leave as soon as possible and now that the last barrier to his leaving had been disposed of, Kuja was betting he'd be gone by the end of the week.
After Zidane finished pushing the Gnoll's body over the steep drop off a few yards beyond the path – it'd be pretty gross to have to step over a rotting carcass in the days to come – he motioned to Kuja to continue on up the mountain path. The silver-haired man picked up his pack of supplies and hefted it onto his shoulders, watched as Zidane did the same, and began walking again, leading the way back to the house.
"You're used to this routine now, huh?" Zidane asked as Kuja easily picked his way past the loose rocks around the next bend.
The former mage frowned slightly, wondering if "Does Kuja know the way to the supply depot?" was just another thing for Zidane to check off on his list. "I suppose…"
"Hey now, what's up?"
You're leaving soon, aren't you? Kuja thought, though he couldn't make himself say it. He tried to think of something that would sound more acceptable in their current situation. "Of course I know the route; we've traveled it often enough."
"Yeah, you're right. It's hard to believe… we've been here almost a year."
Kuja thought about it. It didn't sound right; it seemed like it had only been a few weeks since he'd awoken to find Zidane tending to his injuries, but logically he knew that was impossible. He lifted his chin a little. The air around them was hot and dry thanks to the late summer sun, but he could detect just the faintest hint of a cool breeze drifting by. "Hmm, it seems you are correct."
"I know I'm correct. I've been marking off the days on the post outside the front door," the thief revealed.
Kuja had wondered why there were scratches and notches and nails seemingly randomly driven into the wood. "Ah…"
"I wonder how everyone's doing…" Zidane mused aloud. "I sure miss them. I can hardly wait to go home…"
Home. The older Genome used to think that that simply meant the city of one's residence, or the building in which one would sleep, but now he understood… Zidane wasn't looking to return to a place, but to the people he'd left behind.
Kuja supposed in some abstract way he'd always understood. He'd always been a voracious reader as well as a good observer, using everything around him to supplement the knowledge base Garland had programmed into him. But it was one thing to memorize the definition of a word and another to experience it and glean knowledge that way. He felt something tighten in his throat and he shook his head hard, as if that would clear it. It made no sense to wonder what it was like to have a "home"… how could he want something that would never exist, moreso now that Terra had been destroyed, and by his own hands? But maybe that was a desire built in to all living things, regardless of the hows and whys behind their creation.
He sighed, then caught Zidane looking at him oddly, and cocked his head a little in response. "What?" he croaked.
"I said… oh, never mind. It didn't come out right anyhow," Zidane muttered. He chewed on his lower lip a little, then added, "…I'm not running away, you know. I'll come back for you, once I find some place where you'll be safe. I promise."
Now Kuja wondered what he'd missed while he'd been distracted by his own thoughts. It was inconvenient that Zidane, who was usually stupid as a bag of rocks, could be surprisingly astute as well. Kuja floundered for a way to push aside what Zidane had said, then gave up and muttered, "I don't believe in promises. They're just words. There's nothing binding about them, regardless of what you may think."
"Then what do you believe in?" When Kuja didn't answer, Zidane got a little louder. "I meant what I said. You can't really think I was just planning to leave you here and that's that?"
Kuja suddenly threw his head back and laughed. "Ah, and I was just starting to think you were capable of some modicum of intelligence. But you really are just a hopeless idiot, aren't you?"
"If anyone's an idiot, it's you! What does it take to get through to you?"
Kuja's eyes narrowed slightly at the insult. Then he smirked. His hand shot out to grab Zidane's tie and he pulled until the blonde was flush against his body, then kissed him as forcefully as he could.
Zidane was so surprised that he just stood there slack jawed, which only made it that much easier for Kuja to slide his tongue in between the younger man's lips. Zidane made a muffled sound but didn't resist; in fact, by the time he regained his wits, his tongue had somehow found its way into Kuja's mouth as well, and Kuja's hands had migrated down to his hips.
With some effort, Zidane finally managed to push Kuja off to hold him at arm's length. He wiped off his lips with the back of his hand. "Hey! What's with that? One second you hate me and the next you wanna make out with me?!"
One of Kuja's fine brows went up. "I never said I hated you."
"Right, because otherwise you wouldn't keep kissing me..."
"Zidane… we already had this discussion. Kissing has nothing to do with liking or disliking someone. Though it's easier if you don't dislike them, I suppose. And at least it's honest in that regard. After all, if you didn't enjoy it at least a little bit, I'm sure you wouldn't allow it. And… you wouldn't react to it."
Zidane growled and stomped off on slightly stiff legs, trailed by the sound of Kuja's mocking laughter.
It was a good thing Kuja could take care of himself now. Zidane needed to get out of the situation he was in, before… before… Dang, I don't even know anymore! The whole thing was so confusing; it gave him a headache. He didn't know why he felt any sort of attraction towards Kuja when they were both men. It just wasn't normal. It wasn't right. And the former mage wasn't helping matters either, with all the touching and the kissing. It had been going on for months, and yet Zidane had no clue what it was that Kuja was expecting. Every time the blonde had asked, Kuja had danced around the issue until Zidane had given up in frustration. So what was going on with him? Surely he didn't greet people by sticking his tongue into their mouths. So was he doing it simply to tease Zidane, just to see him red and flustered? Was he just really horny? Or was there something more to it, something that he wasn't willing to admit to?
Zidane abruptly stopped and whirled around. Kuja was still grinning at him, which really set the thief off. He was tired of the games. "I think it'd be for the best if I left next week or so," Zidane finally snapped, watching with some satisfaction as the smile vanished from Kuja's face.
"Sensible. I suppose travel would be more difficult once the weather gets bad," Kuja replied blandly, after a bit of a pause.
Zidane was a little surprised - Kuja was being agreeable, mostly. He'd been expecting something more along the lines of a tantrum. "Yeah, that's right..."
The former mage pursed his lips. The word "stay" was on the tip of his tongue, but he couldn't say it. He didn't believe in begging, not that it had never worked anyhow. And he known for weeks, months even, that Zidane was eager to go home. It was inevitable, so what was the point in delaying it?
… Then again, Kuja wasn't the type who'd go down without a fight, no matter how high the odds were stacked against him. He knew how to fight dirty, how to take advantage of any opening… he excelled at that. And that was what it'd take if there was any possibility of keeping Zidane around.
But just as he'd told the younger Genome earlier, he didn't believe in words. He believed in action. And Zidane was in no mood for that right now. But Kuja wasn't deterred. He'd already decided what he was going to do. He just had to be patient and wait until the right moment to carry out his plan.
Zidane regretted that he'd been so blunt about it, but by the end of the week, he was convinced that he'd made the right decision. He couldn't stay there forever, away from everything he knew and loved, nor did he think he could fight off Kuja's advances indefinitely. And what it would mean if he gave in, Zidane didn't even want to consider. So it was better this way, even if it wasn't easy to walk away. He'd gotten used to life here, for better or for worse.
He set a goal date for one week out. That'd give him time to get extra supplies for the both of them, and to plan out his route. And maybe that would buy him enough time to try and locate Choco's tracks too; if he could find the friendly chocobo, he could save a lot of time and energy by riding instead of walking.
He figured he'd head to the Black Mage Village first. It was close by, and he wanted to see how his fellow Genomes were adjusting to life on Gaia. Plus there was a decent chance that he'd be able to convince them to take Kuja in. That would be the best possible scenario – he was certain Kuja would do pretty well amongst his own people. But he did have to consider the possibility that the Black Mages would refuse, and it was their village after all… he'd have to respect their decision on the matter.
After that, he'd need to find a way across the sea. Once he reached the Mist Continent, he figured he'd head to Lindblum, to Tantalus. As much as he wanted to be with Dagger again, he owed it to his brothers and Baku to let them know he was alive… and perhaps they could help him plan out a suitably dramatic proposal. And maybe Baku could be cajoled into taking Kuja into the gang if needed, so that was another reason to pay him a visit as well. If that didn't work out, Zidane figured he'd check in on what was going on in Treno, since Kuja had lived there before and it had been one of the few places that had remained unscathed during his and Brahne's campaign. And if that didn't seem viable, as a last resort he'd ask – beg even, if it came down to it - Dagger to let Kuja come and live with them.
Zidane was pretty pleased with himself. He wasn't one for planning things out so he thought he'd accomplished quite a feat by coming up with so many backup options in case one or the other fell through.
End goal now in sight, the days seemed to speed by. There was a lot to do and not much time to do it in. They went down to the Dwarven outpost several times to stock up and for Zidane to say goodbye – the Dwarves had literally been their sole lifeline and he wanted to thank them, and to ask them to take care of Kuja in his absence. Kuja offered to help with whatever else was needed to make the trip easier; Zidane had him patch up a tear in his cloak and asked him to help search for Choco as well, which proved to be a good decision as Kuja spotted the telltale tracks before Zidane did. Much to Zidane's relief Choco remembered the sound of his whistle and came running. Even though he was just a bird it was great to reunite with an old friend, and even Kuja seemed to enjoy meeting the creature, though it got a little bit awkward when they realized that Choco had somehow become smitten with Kuja's feathers. The poor chocobo actually looked depressed when they let him go again, but they promised they'd be back later and he perked up before running off, kicking up a cloud of dust behind him.
The former mage was being surprisingly nice and tolerant about everything Zidane asked of him actually. It made the younger man feel that much more guilty about leaving, though he stuck to his decision after thinking it through yet again. It was weird… he'd never had a problem making up his mind on things before, but Kuja had a way of throwing him for a loop, making everything topsy turvy.
Finally the last day arrived. Zidane slept in a bit before heading back out to where they'd last seen Choco and summoned the gold chocobo back to his side. The oversized bird was happy to see him again, kweh-ing and rubbing him affectionately with his beak while searching for his promised reward of gyshal greens. Once Zidane got back to the house, Kuja greeted him with a surprise: a late lunch of stewed rabbit and root vegetables. It was amazingly good, enough that Zidane proclaimed it one of the best things he'd ever eaten. Whether it was the company he was keeping or his excitement at the thought of going home that made it taste that much better, Zidane wasn't sure, but either way, it was one of the most memorable meals he'd had in a long time.
After lunch Zidane did his final packing, triple checking to make sure he had everything he could possibly need, and divided up his remaining Gil, giving Kuja the lion's share to make sure he'd be able to buy whatever supplies he'd need to survive. The blonde didn't anticipate being gone for more than a month or two, but it was better to be safe than sorry in this case. As nice as the Dwarves were, they obviously weren't going to give away their goods for free.
They had some more stew for supper, then Kuja suggested they sit outside to enjoy the rest of the evening. It was still summer after all, and while the midday temperatures could climb rather high, the nights were cool. It was really a beautiful, clear night; Zidane had never really noticed it before, but without city lights to obscure them, the stars in the sky were as dazzling as diamonds. He went to point it out to Kuja, but as soon as he turned to him he'd forgotten what he wanted to talk about.
Zidane had already admitted a hundred times over that Kuja was strikingly attractive, moreso than most women. But he'd never quite seen him like this before. The faint moonlight made Kuja's pale skin and hair glow luminously against the soft darkness of the night. It set off the elegant lines of his cheekbones and nose and darkened his eyes into pools of ink in contrast. Night jasmine, Zidane's brain blurted out. Pristinely white and fragrant with summer's warmth. Zidane frowned; since when did he think of stuff like that? It didn't make any sense. Then again, not much ever did when it came to Kuja. Zidane had the maddening urge to kiss him, but that was probably a bad idea, given that he'd be gone in a matter of hours to return to Dagger's side.
"Is there something on my face?" Kuja asked in a low voice, looking at Zidane as Zidane stared at him in turn.
"No… I was just thinking. Er, remembering something, I guess."
"Remembering what?"
Zidane sighed to buy himself a few moments while trying to recall what it was he'd originally wanted to say, before he'd caught sight of Kuja in the moonlight. Now that he was on the verge of leaving, he knew he didn't have much time left to get it all out. But that was easier said than done. He couldn't think of anything to say other than what he'd already said before: that they were friends, that everything would be okay, that he'd return as soon as he could. He didn't want to sound like a broken record, repeating those same things over and over. Still, he really was going to miss the other man. Even though Kuja was moody and difficult at times, he had his good points too. He was intelligent and witty, beautiful and brave. And there was a kindness in him that Zidane hadn't expected. But despite his strengths there was a vulnerability to him as well, which really set off Zidane's protective instincts, even though the former mage was definitely no damsel in distress.
"This past year," Zidane began slowly, "I enjoyed my time here with you. Even if we didn't always get along, I don't regret any of it. I'm glad I got to know you. I'm glad we're friends now."
"Friends…" Kuja murmured, looking down for a moment. Then he lifted his head, reached a hand up, and lightly touched Zidane's chin. Zidane stared back, blue eyes wide. "I enjoyed my time here with you as well," Kuja said, leaning in to capture the younger Genome's lips in a soft, probing kiss.
Zidane allowed it for a few moments, then pulled away with some reluctance. "We… I can't do this anymore. I'm going back to Dagger."
"Yes, you are. Tomorrow. But tonight, you're still here with me," Kuja said, pushing Zidane's hands away to kiss him again.
It was a cool summer's night, yet Zidane felt like he was burning up. Kuja's breath against his mouth was so warm, and the tongue that had slid back into his mouth was as hot as fire. There was no reason why it ought to feel good, but it did. Zidane moaned, only dimly aware that the sound had come from his own throat, before being shocked back to awareness by something hitting his back. He reflexively tried to push Kuja away again.
"Really, we aren't going to get anywhere if you keep shoving me," Kuja complained. Zidane blinked up at him. Somehow the taller man had pushed him down onto his back, and he hadn't even noticed the change in his verticality beyond the initial impact.
"What? Wait…" the thief began protesting weakly before his complaints were completely cut off by another feverish kiss that stole his breath. Some small part of his mind told him to fight against it, but the truth was, Zidane liked it. He didn't really want to stop. Kuja always made him feel so amazing, waking up every nerve in his body like he'd never experienced before. It was almost like the adrenaline rush of combat, without the danger.
Finally seeing Zidane starting to give in, Kuja's hands relaxed and released Zidane's shoulders, then began making their way down the planes of Zidane's chest. Kuja could feel the frantic beating of Zidane's heart just under his palm. He smirked; he'd give the blonde something to be excited about, if he could just peel back a few layers of clothing…
"Ah!" Zidane gasped as Kuja slipped one hand under his shirt.
"Never had someone touch you like this?" Kuja inquired, though he didn't let up. But he wasn't going to push the matter too hard either until he got his answer.
"No… when would I have?" Zidane groaned.
Kuja smiled. Well, then Zidane wouldn't have had anyone do anything like this either… He pulled the younger Genome's shirt up completely, then lowered his head down and began kissing.
Zidane reacted wonderfully, gasping and squirming beneath Kuja. His hands floated up to knot in long silver hair, holding Kuja's head in place.
After a minute more of nipping and licking and learning about what Zidane liked and disliked – he liked a lot of tongue, but was ticklish on his sides - Kuja finally lifted his head to murmur, "I'm not complaining, but there's no need for us to be out here when there's a warm bed inside."
Yes, he knew it was a risk to bring Zidane back to awareness of what they were doing, but for starters, a wooden porch wasn't exactly the most forgiving of surfaces to have sex on…
The blonde blinked at the question. His pupils were dilated, his face flushed. But instead of pressing his advantage, Kuja sat back to give Zidane some breathing room and to await his answer. He wasn't going to force him. If Zidane firmly said no, Kuja would back off. He wasn't going to let Zidane have the sort of experience he'd had his first time. Not that he'd been forced into it either, but he had been confused when it had happened. A man had offered him shelter for a night and he hadn't understood the implication of those words. Although he'd known what copulation entailed in a clinical sense, he hadn't realized it could happen between two men. It hadn't been the most pleasant learning experience, but he'd gotten over it once his eyes were opened to the advantage his body had given him. An advantage he was grateful for, at times like this…
"I want this. And I think you do too. Think of it as… my thank you, for everything you've done for me," Kuja said.
"I don't need that. Words are enough."
"No, they're not," Kuja insisted. "You know I don't believe that. So please… let me do this. Or else all I'll think about is…" And he stopped to swallow, surprised at the strange feelings welling up, "…is what could've been. If I'd only tried…"
Zidane wasn't sure what the silver-haired Genome was talking about anymore, but it didn't matter. For some reason, this was that important to Kuja – and Zidane understood what it meant to not want to be in debt to someone. But more than that, he was feeling extremely guilty about leaving… If something like this would make Kuja feel a little better, then… maybe…. "I'm… I don't know…"
"Zidane…"
"I mean, I don't know what to do."
"Ah. I'll show you then." Kuja leaned back in to kiss him on the lips, no tongue this time, just a sweet, simple kiss. "Thank you, Zidane." He stood up and offered his hand to his younger counterpart.
For a moment Zidane just stared at the hand, and it seemed perhaps he'd changed his mind, but then he reached up and accepted it.
(LEMON OMITTED – see notes below)
Author's Notes:
- Once again, the lemon scene was cut due to mature content, as per ffnet rules. It just gets impossible to sanitize them past a certain point, so I opt to omit them rather than delete half the text. SPECIFICALLY the earlier "hanky panky" parts did get toned down on here (from where Kuja puts his hands under Zidane's shirt) but from the part where Zidane gives in, everything past that got cut. The full chapter is available on my site (link in profile) for mature readers. Thanks for understanding.
- And on the aforementioned topic of lemon, I hope I was able to do it justice. I really didn't want to emphasize the sex but, well, I'm no good at limes either. This was a bit outside of my wheelhouse though. It certainly wasn't meant to be romantic by any means, though there are elements of that in there, but at the same time it's not hate!sex either. Just a lot of guilt tripping and denial and a complete lack of meeting of the minds.
- Re: finding a way across the sea. In the game, a gold chocobo would be a perfectly valid and logical option for crossing an ocean, but I just have a hard time picturing (without laughing) an ostrich-like bird flying across miles and miles of open water with a passenger clinging to it, so Zidane will have to find another way to get home. For the purposes of this fic, Choco's pretty much just an ordinary chocobo.
- Thanks again to Nenya85 for beta work. Reviews are appreciated!
