So, you guys liked the first part, ne? Hope so, I kinda like it. ^_^ Thanks for all the reviews and pleas for continuence. So, here it is. XD There will be no more after this short one; the end is near. Awwww...sowwy. But, sooner or later, maybe I'll write (and maybe even finish *gasp*) another shounen-ai fanfic. ^_^ Speaking of which, there IS shounen-ai and there IS incest, so don't read if you don't want it. And you should already know that if you'd read the first chapter. And if you haven't, go read it. -.-;
And for those that have read/will read New-Born Evil...I'm at a stand-still on that, but I don't plan on dropping it. So, you're just going to have to wait. ^_^; Anyway, enjoy the second and last chapter! XD
Stained Hands
Chapter Two
Zidane awakens the next day with a minor, ignorable headache. Before even opening his eyes, he shivers, blissful memories flowing to the back of his eyelids - a dizzying blur of Kuja's milky skin, flowing hair, and deep eyes, all so delightfully real and up-close.
Something's wrong though. He cracks his eyes open, frowns, and tilts his head up to look at his surroundings: very familiar and definitely not good.
He should be seeing the grand fireplace in Kuja's personal bed chambers - not the metal decor of his dungeon cell. Zidane sits up; his first inclination is to look for Kuja or anyone else that may be familiar or of help. Again, no one is present. Sighing, he wonders what he did to deserve this.
Upon five minutes of observation and analysis, Zidane still can't come up with anything decisive. Dressed only in his pants, its suggested he was either thrown in here in a hurry or that Kuja wasn't done with him. Zidane can't help but hope the second was true.
An additional five minutes later, cold and hunger, especially, have been realized, taking the place of the headache on the importance scale. Soon after, the invisible panel suddenly slides open, directly in front of Zidane, where it had before. Kuja's slender form is walking down the hallway.
Zidane quickly gets to his feet, using the wall he had been sitting against for support. Kuja enters the room.
"I apologize, Zidane, for the delay; I had unfinished business to attend to."
"S'okay, but why'd you dump me in here?" Zidane asks, puzzled still by the situation.
"To prevent you from running freely."
Zidane blinks, frowning. "I wasn't planning on going anywhere."
"I couldn't be sure." Kuja is fully dressed in his white and purple armor, his hair brushed, and his make-up perfect. "You're a naughty boy," he says with the wisp of a smile, "and I didn't wish to chance what you might do when I haven't my eye on you."
Zidane shoves his hands in his pockets and starts to rock back and forth on his shoeless heels. Grinning, he answers, "But you like me like that, huh?" These comments just can't be helped.
Kuja replies with a knowing smile. "Indeed." He crosses the floor to Zidane. "And I'm not through with you just yet."
The grin stays in place. "That's good to hear."
"I wish you to answer my question first, however." The beauty's arms lift to drape over Zidane's shoulders, hands taking hold of the shorter boy's ponytail, petting it.
"And what question is that?"
"Why do you insist on offering your head to the guillotine when there is no cause or reason?"
"...Oh, you mean why am I always screwing you up?" Zidane's arms slip around Kuja's waist.
"Precisely."
"Mmmm, 'cause you're threatening Gaia, my friends, and all that other stuff."
"But why do you care, Zidane?"
"...I dunno...just the right thing to do. It all seems worth defending, I guess."
"I see..." Kuja trails off thoughtfully.
"Anything else?" Zidane asks as he works his fingers down the back of Kuja's thong.
A smile plays on Kuja's features as his thought process is not-so-disappointingly interrupted. "Would you ever consider abandoning your cause?"
"Nope," Zidane replies cheerfully.
"Even if I offered you..." Trailing off again, he considers his possessions. "A home here? With me?" He lowers his head down beside Zidane's to tickle his ear with a slick tongue.
"Sorry, Kuja. You're one hell of a lover, and I appreciate that, but..." he shrugs, abandoning the unfinished explanation, smiling at Kuja's advance.
"What if I offered myself to you?" the older man whispers. "A sacrifice to the Defender of Gaia." Kuja begins to kiss Zidane's earlobe, adding to the temptation.
Zidane's eyes close, his smile widens. "Sorry..."
Kuja's arms slowly embrace Zidane, pulling him close, hands sliding across Zidane's bare, muscular back. "What a pity..." he whispers into Zidane's ear. After playing with the ear, his tongue withdraws and his teeth close around Zidane's earlobe in a pinching bite.
"Ah..." Zidane flinches in Kuja's arms, pleasure escalating.
Another gasp. Kuja smiles as he sucks on the earlobe. The boy in his arms suddenly begins to grow weak. Zidane's own dagger is pulled free from its owner's back. A painful moan leaves the victim's mouth. "Kuja..." The limp body collapses to the ground, falling from the guilty's arms.
Kuja looks down upon Zidane's corpse. He turns the blade over in his hands, ever careful to avoid blood on his fingers or clothing. The villain's painted smile meets the victim's empty eyes, eyes betraying the confusion to the killer.
The Angel of Death turns away from his latest victim and leaves the cell by which he came, gently pushing silver hair over his shoulder. When his feet leave the floor of the room and begin to cross the hallway, the panel slowly, mechanically slides closed. Cries of Zidane's name echo from the other cells; his closest friends knew his fate long before he did.
The floor of the cursed room slides open beneath the body, revealing a pit of licking flames; a thin, surface layer, simply hiding the real intentions of the anger beneath.
As the platform slides back into place - the disposal of evidence complete - hot, thick, inhuman blood still clings to the cold, metal floor, staining the smeared surface and the hands of the killer; but never his conscience.
"Peace is but a shadow of death, dear brother."
The End
And for those that have read/will read New-Born Evil...I'm at a stand-still on that, but I don't plan on dropping it. So, you're just going to have to wait. ^_^; Anyway, enjoy the second and last chapter! XD
Chapter Two
Zidane awakens the next day with a minor, ignorable headache. Before even opening his eyes, he shivers, blissful memories flowing to the back of his eyelids - a dizzying blur of Kuja's milky skin, flowing hair, and deep eyes, all so delightfully real and up-close.
Something's wrong though. He cracks his eyes open, frowns, and tilts his head up to look at his surroundings: very familiar and definitely not good.
He should be seeing the grand fireplace in Kuja's personal bed chambers - not the metal decor of his dungeon cell. Zidane sits up; his first inclination is to look for Kuja or anyone else that may be familiar or of help. Again, no one is present. Sighing, he wonders what he did to deserve this.
Upon five minutes of observation and analysis, Zidane still can't come up with anything decisive. Dressed only in his pants, its suggested he was either thrown in here in a hurry or that Kuja wasn't done with him. Zidane can't help but hope the second was true.
An additional five minutes later, cold and hunger, especially, have been realized, taking the place of the headache on the importance scale. Soon after, the invisible panel suddenly slides open, directly in front of Zidane, where it had before. Kuja's slender form is walking down the hallway.
Zidane quickly gets to his feet, using the wall he had been sitting against for support. Kuja enters the room.
"I apologize, Zidane, for the delay; I had unfinished business to attend to."
"S'okay, but why'd you dump me in here?" Zidane asks, puzzled still by the situation.
"To prevent you from running freely."
Zidane blinks, frowning. "I wasn't planning on going anywhere."
"I couldn't be sure." Kuja is fully dressed in his white and purple armor, his hair brushed, and his make-up perfect. "You're a naughty boy," he says with the wisp of a smile, "and I didn't wish to chance what you might do when I haven't my eye on you."
Zidane shoves his hands in his pockets and starts to rock back and forth on his shoeless heels. Grinning, he answers, "But you like me like that, huh?" These comments just can't be helped.
Kuja replies with a knowing smile. "Indeed." He crosses the floor to Zidane. "And I'm not through with you just yet."
The grin stays in place. "That's good to hear."
"I wish you to answer my question first, however." The beauty's arms lift to drape over Zidane's shoulders, hands taking hold of the shorter boy's ponytail, petting it.
"And what question is that?"
"Why do you insist on offering your head to the guillotine when there is no cause or reason?"
"...Oh, you mean why am I always screwing you up?" Zidane's arms slip around Kuja's waist.
"Precisely."
"Mmmm, 'cause you're threatening Gaia, my friends, and all that other stuff."
"But why do you care, Zidane?"
"...I dunno...just the right thing to do. It all seems worth defending, I guess."
"I see..." Kuja trails off thoughtfully.
"Anything else?" Zidane asks as he works his fingers down the back of Kuja's thong.
A smile plays on Kuja's features as his thought process is not-so-disappointingly interrupted. "Would you ever consider abandoning your cause?"
"Nope," Zidane replies cheerfully.
"Even if I offered you..." Trailing off again, he considers his possessions. "A home here? With me?" He lowers his head down beside Zidane's to tickle his ear with a slick tongue.
"Sorry, Kuja. You're one hell of a lover, and I appreciate that, but..." he shrugs, abandoning the unfinished explanation, smiling at Kuja's advance.
"What if I offered myself to you?" the older man whispers. "A sacrifice to the Defender of Gaia." Kuja begins to kiss Zidane's earlobe, adding to the temptation.
Zidane's eyes close, his smile widens. "Sorry..."
Kuja's arms slowly embrace Zidane, pulling him close, hands sliding across Zidane's bare, muscular back. "What a pity..." he whispers into Zidane's ear. After playing with the ear, his tongue withdraws and his teeth close around Zidane's earlobe in a pinching bite.
"Ah..." Zidane flinches in Kuja's arms, pleasure escalating.
Another gasp. Kuja smiles as he sucks on the earlobe. The boy in his arms suddenly begins to grow weak. Zidane's own dagger is pulled free from its owner's back. A painful moan leaves the victim's mouth. "Kuja..." The limp body collapses to the ground, falling from the guilty's arms.
Kuja looks down upon Zidane's corpse. He turns the blade over in his hands, ever careful to avoid blood on his fingers or clothing. The villain's painted smile meets the victim's empty eyes, eyes betraying the confusion to the killer.
The Angel of Death turns away from his latest victim and leaves the cell by which he came, gently pushing silver hair over his shoulder. When his feet leave the floor of the room and begin to cross the hallway, the panel slowly, mechanically slides closed. Cries of Zidane's name echo from the other cells; his closest friends knew his fate long before he did.
The floor of the cursed room slides open beneath the body, revealing a pit of licking flames; a thin, surface layer, simply hiding the real intentions of the anger beneath.
As the platform slides back into place - the disposal of evidence complete - hot, thick, inhuman blood still clings to the cold, metal floor, staining the smeared surface and the hands of the killer; but never his conscience.
The End