AN: It has been almost two months since I updated this. To be frank, it was because I expected more feedback, but what the heck. Another reason is that I had so many things to regarding college and I still have, but I promised 'long awaited something something' and here I am, keeping my promise. :)
I hope you'll enjoy this chapter. It is a bit long, but that's just a nice lead-in to something good, good, good… :) On your part, feel free to read and review.
Disclaimer: I do not own T. S. Eliot's 'Wasteland'
Hitori, Futari
Chapter 12: A Game of Risk1
He knew that those things he considered games were insignificant and stupid, and that they may as well not work on the redhead. The Turk had become more wary around him, almost completely dropping the concept of their becoming friends. In his eyes, Yazoo mused, it had just been an experiment. Nothing would come out of it now that the redhead had aborted it. Perhaps it was better to leave it this way, the remnant thought. On the other hand, though, he had his eyes set on his prey; he had always known what he wanted and carefully chosen paths leading straight to it. First time he had failed, all thanks to Reno, many months ago. Reno didn't want to play now, though a different game of merging. His comrades and Jenova had been long forgotten; he thought of as another means of merging, if you could call it so.
He lay down on his bed, with his arms behind his head. Such a wild creature, he thought about the Turk, with those strangely shaped eyes, so exotic and full of things one couldn't decipher in decades. Reno's eyes were full of mischief, yet he somehow managed to keep himself in check. He was Yazoo's walking contradiction; his thick burning hair, and a bit of a collarbone not concealed by his white shirt were some details Yazoo repeatedly summoned before his eyes, his lips crooked in an awkward but not ugly smirk. Such sincere eyes, yet secretive. His constant smile and exaggerated gestures when he was offended.
Sometimes Reno had a strong sense of justice, especially when dealing with Cloud. Tifa had told him once how he'd reprimanded Cloud for his cowardice, when he and the other two remnants had kidnapped Denzel and Marlene. So many contradicting data, yet Yazoo thought he managed to make a general picture of his supervisor—he was just and was something other people would categorize as a 'good and honest man', who could also cause you great inconvenience if you ever found yourself in his way. He was a cold-hearted assassin, one shouldn't forget that. In addition, he had a high rank in ShinRa Corporation. You could never distinguish between his good and bad traits, apparently.
Slowly but surely Yazoo was getting aroused by carefully selecting images and scenes from his memories—Reno's sharp remarks, his clumsy self, his agile self, their fights, their sparring, texture of his bones, flesh and skin, his contradicting behavior- sometimes impulsive, sometimes perfectly reasonable- the last he heard of his voice, and the latest events with sexual connotation. Slowly, making gradation of events, from most innocent ones to ones desperate and erotic, he unzipped his pants and started stroking himself. He rarely masturbated, but he had to admit that ever since he first started, he found it refreshing and wicked. He worked himself to orgasm, gasping only when he reached it, that twisted smirk of satisfaction never leaving his features.
As he was coming, he contemplated immediately going to Reno, having sex with him, whatever that could make them close. He wanted to feel the solid matter, i.e. his body, its warmth and strength; with confidence of someone experienced, which he wasn't, was he certain he could make him contented, could drive him insane and madly in love. The purpose of such result didn't matter to Yazoo, as far as he got to have some fun. He knew that nobody could envy them on the situation they were in, however. It could cause many problems for both of them should they be discovered. But he didn't care. He liked it complicated. He liked it unbearable. He wanted to see how long it would last. Besides, it was boring, working at this butchery. Blood didn't give him the thrill anymore. Not in the amount he wanted to, anyway.
There was this thing he didn't like about masturbation. It left him with a dark void in his chest; it drained his energy to live. He wasn't embarrassed by what he had done, but some uneasiness would always find its way into him. It was natural to feel that way, his instincts told him; reality would strike you hard, you'd get tired of all the emotions you're carrying within. Yazoo curled up in a ball, covered himself with a blanket, and stared at the empty space before him, lulling himself to sleep.
Reno was back to his old self. Yazoo always knew there was something else to him, and he finally witnessed the redhead's professionalism. It appeared in the shape of Reno's three underlings. They had been ordered to follow every Yazoo's step and write those tiring reports. They would, in the end, merge those three into one. Reno would later skim through it, add something of his own, and send it to Rufus Shinra. Yazoo was introduced with the procedure.
He liked to see the young rookies flinch whenever he sent them his distorted gaze, or smirked at them in disdain. Apparently, Reno had a great amount of trust in them and believed that this experience would be good for them. Either way, he didn't care. They were young and inexperienced and stood no chance against him. He could easily slice their throats without his wonderful pets, or his gun-blade, just to see Reno's infuriated face. He could do something so monstrous, but he knew that Reno wouldn't care. He was just testing him, and exposing those poor lambs to immediate danger represented no worry for him. Reno could be ruthless like that. Yazoo licked his lips whenever he thought of the redhead's wicked side.
It was Saturday, so he finished earlier than usual. It was three o'clock and he thought he could take a walk, just to see how those three would react, how they would follow him, and which conclusions they would draw. It was funny, in a way, to see them carry their communicators, staring at him from their estimate of a safe distance, all frightened like chickens, yet their eyes were so insolent. It amused him a bit, but soon, like everything else, they became boring.
The day was, as usual, dark, air humid, streets wet from rain. It had stopped just a few minutes ago. Careful not to be seen by the people who were still unaware of his existence, especially parents of the children he had kidnapped (he didn't want them troubling him just yet, even though a good fight or two, a few severed limbs were very enticing), he strolled in the shadows of buildings in construction, running his gloved hand along their smooth walls, occasionally throwing glances at the overcast sky. It was so easy for him to merge in gray.
The scent of earth after rain filled his nostrils, and he inhaled deeply, feeling a bit dizzy and aroused; there was something highly erotic in small particles of melancholy that floated in the air. The sound of his combat boots hitting against the concrete surface ceaselessly drummed in his ears, until he stopped before the back entrance of his Nii-san' house.
Devilishly, he smirked at the mice that were hiding behind the pillars of the surrounding buildings, their muscles tense as they held their weapons tight to their chests, holding their breaths. So pitiful, Yazoo decided. He was already disinterested in torturing them physically, and mental games were only exciting if he played them with Reno. The door opened and he gracefully turned to see who would exit.
A pregnant brunette was laboring over the pile of some sort of boxes in her arms. She was desperately trying to keep the balance, but she tripped while descending the short flight of stairs, dropping all of the boxes on the wet ground. Luckily, she didn't fall herself. Yazoo observed her from the shadows, debating whether he should come and help her or not. But before he could decide (the decision wasn't that hard to make; he, in fact, wanted to turn around and go someplace else, somewhere where he didn't have to watch clumsy people trip, someplace where he could enjoy his solitude to the fullest), Tifa sighed in exasperation, her hands on her hips, stretched her neck a bit, and spotted him.
"Yazoo? Is that you?" she asked softly. Over the time, she had gotten a bit closer to him, although reasonably wary of him. She thought that Reno had everything under control, and wished Cloud could stop being hostile toward him. That was what she had told Yazoo once, when they'd visited. Reno had made him visit that place on many occasions. He concluded that her opinion about Reno was relatively positive. She deemed him a good person. So, she probably inferred, if he brought Yazoo to Seventh Heaven, the remnant was comparatively harmless.
But now she was about to give birth to her kid. Her skills must have degraded to some degree, so she should be extra cautious, Yazoo mused. Not that he was in the mood to do anything bad to her. Nii-san wouldn't like that. The blond young man who always frowned upon him visiting them. Marlene and Denzel were always hiding behind him, and staring at Yazoo with fear. It was subsiding these days, though.
Seeing as how he couldn't get out of the situation now, he stepped from the shadows, but remained silent. That was all he was willing to do, to let her recognize him, his straight, slender figure standing there, his eyes and face expressionless yet ominous.
"Could you help me with those board games, please?" she asked him politely, making effort to smile at him. It was a nice try, though, and she was earnestly trying to be friendly.
He nodded his head slightly, and went forward, crouched to pick up the almost soaking boxes. He felt her presence behind his back, her fingers crossed behind her back.
"Um…lucky there is duct tape around them so they didn't spill." She said. "We rarely play these, so I thought, maybe we could, one of these days….It appears to be cloudy, though."
"So why don't you just play inside?" he asked, even though he wasn't interested. He was curious to know whether his Nii-san would be there. It felt so lonely sometimes, without his kinsmen…if he even had them.
"Ah," Tifa started. Yazoo straightened up, waiting for her to tell him where to take those boxes. "I thought we could all gather in the church, among those flowers and all…" she chuckled, her big brown eyes looking straight into his cold, green ones, openly and warmly offering friendship. She so easily forgets and forgives, he thought. What if she sees Loz? What then? "So, could you help me carry these to the church?"
He nodded slightly, and they headed in the direction where the church was, side by side. "You can join us if you want" Tifa thoughtfully added.
"Will Nii-san be there?" he inquired.
"I think he should come in an hour or so. He's busy at the moment." Yazoo took this as yes, and offered his usual 'hn'.
Not even a few minutes passed after they had arrived when Barrett and the kids entered the church carrying various snacks and drinks in several bags. Barrett eyed him suspiciously, but Tifa reassured him with her ever so warm chestnut eyes. They decided they would play Monopoly, so Monopoly it was. They explained him the rules and they started the game.
The church wasn't that bad a place as Loz had described it, nor did the flowers stink. Yazoo liked the combination of humidity in air and vegetation, since such fragrance never ceased to caress his senses. It felt like reading T. S. Eliot's poetry, the feeling of despair never leaving his bones. His 'Wasteland' and hyacinth garden mentioned in it…
'You gave me hyacinths first a year ago;
'They called me the hyacinth girl.'
—Yet when we came back, late, from the Hyacinth garden,
Your arms full, and your hair wet, I could not
Speak, and my eyes failed, I was neither
Living nor dead, and I knew nothing,
Looking into the heart of light, the silence.'
...if he remembered correctly, it was an association with grief and love, plainly said. He felt it would be nice if he could make such a garden in this place. It would be a tribute to something he harbored for several weeks. It was an entire process, actually, of him becoming like this. His wicked side always prevailed, but it changed the form.
It wasn't long before Cloud arrived, immediately frowning when seeing Yazoo. Marlene and Denzel were playing Monopoly with Tifa, Barrett and him. It was a strange sight to behold, but he figured, if Barrett was there, everything would be fine, even though he didn't know how strong Yazoo was now, when he was a mere human. That wasn't the reason to put his guard down, of course.
Nii-san was very beautiful, with his spiky blond hair and very intense blue eyes, that way due to exposure to mako. However, that scowl on his face made him older than he actually was. He nodded in general direction, greeting them all, refraining to ask why the remnant was there. Marlene and Denzel stood up and ran toward him, wrapping their small arms around his lean waist. Soon after, the little ones abandoned the game and went to play hide and seek with Cloud instead.
Not long after, Reno burst into the church, very furious. Yazoo observed him calmly, thinking how silly his rookies had been, how foolishly scared that he would do something to Tifa and the rest.
The Turk stopped in his tracks, bewildered. Yazoo was playing Monopoly with them, as if he were a normal individual. On the other hand, there was no evident reason for him not to be normal now. There was something odd in his persona, though, his speech pattern, that crazy look in his eyes, his movements. He wanted to shout, to ask what he was doing there, but that would cause suspicion among others, since he'd brought Yazoo to Seventh Heaven so many times, claiming he was harmless. It was too late to do anything else but sit beside him and observe the game.
Yazoo's new 'friends' looked disinterestedly in his direction, as if saying 'oh, it's just you', and turned to their game. Tifa was winning. He sat beside them, wordlessly, and observed the game. Yazoo's cyan eyes fixed him with an enamored look. It lasted only for a second and transfixed him like a really, really sharp razor. The truth was, he wasn't doing things right. Nothing he had done recently had he done for the well-being of ShinRa Company but for his own well-being.
The group soon decided to play something else, namely, Risk. As expected of Yazoo, there was something devious in his features, as he conquered one country after another, ending up conquering the world with delighted and conceited smirk on his face. Reno tapped his shoulder, whispering in his ear that it was just a game and that he shouldn't be so worked up about it. But Yazoo wasn't enchanted at all. He was just playing the game by their rules, under Reno's scrutiny. He never intended to impress anyone by his skills as a tactician, especially now when those tactics couldn't serve him for other purposes. When it came to emotions, Yazoo was as smart as an ameba.
"What is it, Cloud? Sephiroth didn't fuck you the way you wanted?" it was a usual remark Reno uttered every now and then, much to the dismay of others. It never served its purpose; it was supposed to be a joke of some kind, a tasteless attempt at comic relief, since the atmosphere tended to be tense between him and Cloud. It never helped matters; moreover, it served as a mockery. Reno liked to drop hints at Sephiroth's and Cloud's potential sexual relationship, representing himself as a 'right and healthy male, which Cloud isn't'. He soon bit his tongue, when he recalled who was sitting next to him and the irony behind their conduct.
Little did he expect that the blond would flinch at this, but not in the way the redhead was accustomed to—in rage—he blushed instead, and averted his gaze. Reno found it amusing, and snorted almost inaudibly. Perhaps Sephiroth was alive as well? Perhaps something indeed had happened, or Cloud was contemplating it. Either way, this announced Reno's triumph for his remark proved to be useful.
The remnant observed all of this from the corner of his eye, wondering if Kadaj had found Nii-san. If so, how had they greeted each other? If not, when the encounter would happen. He opted for the latter, because he was certain Cloud would give himself away one way or another.
His train of thought was interrupted by the constant noise in the background. It wasn't actually a noise, but it made him irritated nevertheless. Tifa and Reno were bickering now, quietly. She was reprimanding him for talking profanity in front of the children, and added that this wasn't his first time doing so. He pointed out that the children were sleeping; and true—Marlene's head rested in Barrett's lap, and Denzel was secluded by the flowers that surrounded his sleeping form. They somehow included Cloud in their conversation, who was desperately trying to change the subject.
A few seconds later they were talking about various strategies in battle, and he and Reno assumed, more or less, the role of the audience. Yazoo looked at him again, with enamored look and leaned closer, brushing the tip of Reno's nose with his own. The redhead held his breath as he felt Yazoo's on his face. As if in the world of their own, in an invisible bubble did they feel, as the other three adults were engrossed in a fierce discussion (Tifa and Barrett being louder, and Cloud interjecting here and there. He preferred listening to talking). Yazoo brushed his lips against Reno's, as if saying 'Let's go home', even though they didn't live together nor did they plan to.
The bored expression on Yazoo's face told him that it wasn't far from the truth, it just needed slight paraphrasing. Yazoo's body said: "Let's get out of here!" And so, by a tacit agreement, they both stood up and excused themselves.
As if possessed, Reno followed his protégé to the dilapidated building in which he lived. Yazoo's seductive eyes invited him inside and he didn't object, although a greater part of him disagreed with this decision. Yazoo's arms longingly reached for him, teasing his lower lip tenderly, almost lovingly, pushing him forward until Reno sat on the neatly made bed.
This was where he wanted him. Perhaps a part of him only wanted to crush him this way, by making him do what he had probably sworn he wouldn't; to rub it in his face, his failure as a Turk, as a person. Perhaps a part of him admired his strong temperament which, in turn decided to succumb to his dirty mind tricks. He straddled the redhead and locked his lips in a deep, demanding kiss, and as it became fiercer and more intense, his hips started rocking backward and forward.
Reno embraced him, running his calloused palms along his strong back, tracing every vertebra, the plane of smooth skin unlike any woman's. His hands wandered up and down, underneath his black turtleneck which Yazoo threw off carelessly a few seconds after, his mind too hot and too clouded to think about anything else.
It was Reno before him, his fox like eyes staring at him, his irises blue, when he took a better look. He had thought they were green. He ran his dexterous fingers through his thick red hair, moving them down his neck and running his palms along the smoothness of his chest in rapid movements, gradually reaching to their destination—Reno's hand—drawing it to his, now more visible, arousal.
Soon their breathing became erratic. Reno didn't know what to do. His hand hesitated in Yazoo's persistent one, but seeing how the remnant couldn't take it anymore (this pleasure had been denied him for so long), the Turk's skinny fingers unbuckled his belt, and started stroking the best he could. After that point, his mind went blank for a few seconds, when he realized what he was doing.
He gasped at the sight before him; he was witnessing the only thing so far that seemed genuine on Yazoo's part- his occasional, quiet, rapturous grunts of pleasure, his hand tightly squeezing Reno's, as they rapidly moved, in unison. His other hand was clutching Reno's strong shoulder so tight Reno was sure it would leave a bruise afterwards.
Yazoo threw his head back as he was nearing his climax, reaching unimaginable heights as he felt himself emptying in Reno's tight grip. After so much writhing and occasional stillness, he stiffened, arched his back and came in silence; cyan eyes wide as if he'd just been shot through the head. When he came to, he lowered his head to see Reno's clouded eyes, which indicated that he had lost all his reason. He could feel the redhead was painfully aroused, and feeling tired and empty by default, he knew he could do little to relieve his partner.
There was one thing, however, that could be done and the very thought of it made him both sick and delighted. Tiredly, but soberly, he tapped Reno's belt in order for him to take the hint and unbuckle it, as he slid from his lap, his thighs sweaty and sticky, and positioned himself facedown on the bed.
Reno entered him without a second thought, despite him not being prepared, causing the great friction and pain to surge through Yazoo's body, who only bit his lower lip and waited for the hell to be over. Sadistic as he was, this was unexpected of him, but he drew pleasure from wicked and sick things, and this one was the sickest he could manage at the moment. He felt disgusted with Reno doing this in an animalistic way of his, without much imagination, just the urgency to get rid of his own semen. On the other hand, he couldn't blame him, for he felt the same, the destructive power of unused sexual energy.
This was another irony that occurred to the redhead, later, when his mind was clear again—he hadn't had sex in a long time, and the first person to have it with was a man, and Yazoo, of all people. Sinking to the lowest, he came into the remnant and released him at once, when he realized what he had done, how, despite Yazoo's efforts, his muscles convulsed in agony and pain.
"Are you alright, yo?" he asked quietly, his voice broken. Yazoo stood from the bed, thinking about the hideousness of their act. They weren't even naked. They never managed to at least get undressed. He snorted and looked down his legs, where the semen ran in rivulets. That was the only thing that disgusted him, in fact. He looked at Reno, and then headed to the bathroom, managing not to limp, and leaving him confused and worried.
When all the excitement subsided, the heaviness of guilt fell upon the Turk, who couldn't do anything but sit in Yazoo's bed, stare at one spot on the wall of the kitchenette, and think what to do next. The situation was getting complex and he wasn't sure if he could find his way out without any severe consequences, because, no matter what he would do, it appeared wrong in his eyes.
His resolve hadn't been strong enough and he was ashamed of himself Betraying his own principles like this…But he comforted himself that at least some of his principles remained intact. His sexual and love life had nothing to do with ShinRa's recovery, he mused. His professional ethics, on the other hand, were telling a different story. If he couldn't keep his zipper closed around the one he was supposed to guard and supervise, would he be competent to perform any other duty anymore? This was a blemish in his career. Yet it tasted bittersweet and, in brief moments of madness, he couldn't help but admit that deep down there lay some sort of admiration toward the remnant.
"You are so pitiful." Yazoo said, startling him from his thoughts. He was leaning against the wall, a white towel wrapped around his waist.
"Come again?" Reno took the defensive stance, scowling.
"Much ado about nothing. Ordering so many rookies to follow me in order for you to keep your distance, when you're so easily susceptible to indulgences like this one. Quite ironic, don't you think?" Yazoo said in one breath in his teasing, malicious voice. He had the point and Reno knew this. But to be enveloped in such warmth couldn't be such a bad thing either, could it?
"Shut up right now, yo!" he said. That was all he could think of. But Yazoo wouldn't listen.
"Why, when it's the truth? You aren't capable of being a mere dog of shachou's. How pitiful…."he purred. "But that's exactly what enables me to have some fun, too. Who could blame you, then?" he straddled Reno and his beautiful red hair touched the soft pillow.
"It can't be that bad, either." The Turk said wryly.
"But you go down alone." Yazoo whispered, caressing his face, tilting his head to the left. "How sad for a prominent member of Turks such as yourself. Sooner or later, they will find out."
Reno frowned again, swallowing hard. "What are you going to do, tell them?"He snorted, tracing the curves of Yazoo's neck with his sensitive fingertips. "Don't be ridiculous. I can take care of myself. I can kill you if I want to." His grip on Yazoo's throat was tighter, but not deadly. Yazoo smirked, placing his hands on top of Reno's, encouraging him to tighten the grip. But Reno let go, seeing how the remnant felt delighted by being deprived of air.
The silver haired youth reached for the redhead's shirt, and its owner didn't protest. Yazoo's eyes were encouraging regarding that. Soon he found himself naked, feeling the remnant's butterfly kisses all over his throat and collarbone, going down to his chest and belly, only to return and claim his lips. He emitted incredible warmth. It was so soothing, and Reno closed his eyes.
Somewhere miles from reality, he locked this memory, as the sound of the drawer opening and closing could be heard in the distance. He opened his eyes, opening his mouth to say…
"Oh, no you won't!" He grabbed Yazoo's arm, trying to make him drop the tube of lubricant. He wondered where he had bought it (and if he'd bought it) and if he had been preparing for this all along. There was this disturbing fact that made him release Yazoo's arm—it was time for retribution, anyway. It was only fair.
Yazoo's face remained unchanged, as he prepared him slowly and carefully, so that he would feel as little pain and discomfort as possible, and teased him a little. Another thing that took the Turk by surprise was the pack of condoms on the night stand, which he hadn't noticed earlier. And now Yazoo was putting one of them on. Then he dived into the redhead and both of them lost all reason.
His pelvis was like a groove that fit perfectly Yazoo's own pelvis, and he felt secure and beyond reach of all the hideous concerns. The warmth cocooned them; Yazoo's eyes were trained on his, transfixing his heart and making him nervous. On the other hand, endorphin in his brain told him to relax and remove the strands of wet silver locks sticking to his partner's neck.
The way Yazoo was making love to him now resembled mockery; it was as if he was showing the redhead how it should be done, in a refined way, but he bit his lip and let it pass. It was pleasant anyway.
He hadn't put much struggle, had he? Why would he, when some ethereal thing, intangible, surreal, was telling him that he shouldn't lose this, for it was special in its own way. It wasn't unique and it hadn't happened for the first time, but was nevertheless sweet as the softest peach. Such feeling always made him elated, so why blocking them?
The phone was persistent. Someone murmured something grumpily, and the red head protruded from the sheets. A long arm followed, successfully managing to find the pants on the floor and draw the telephone from the pocket. It brought the phone to the ear.
"What?" he asked sleepily, then straightened up in his bed, smiling. "That's great news." He said, waiting for the other party to say something, but another arm, which wasn't his, protruded from the sheets, snatched the phone and threw it against the wall.
"What the fuck, Yazoo?" Reno shouted, angered. "Barrett just called and said that he and Tifa got a baby girl…"
"Hn" Yazoo said, turning his back to Reno.
"Barrett mentioned a name when you interrupted…Perhaps Tifa wanted me to name the baby?"
"Any suggestions?" the remnant asked disinterestedly. Reno flopped down on the pillows, supporting his head with his hands.
"Hmm…" He said. Then, after a long pause, he added, "How about Hana?2 We saw Tifa and everyone among the flowers yesterday, so why not?" But received no response from Yazoo.
TBC…How do you think their relationship would work and if it would work? What about others finding out?
I hope you enjoyed the chapter!
1 Allusion to A Game of Chess, title of a part of T.S. Eliot's poem 'Wasteland'
2 Hana (Japanese) Flower(s). But I guess you already knew. :)
