Summary: Again, there really isn't one. It's smut, simply enough. Smack down in the middle of the movie, but no spoilers. Shifting points of view.. mostly Yazoo, though.
Notes: There's no explanation for this.. I wanted to write smut. It came to mind. It's partly incoherent but it's supposed to be like that for once. I think I caught all possible typos and gramatical butcherings, but let me know if I didn't. ;; Enjoy!

Imbalance

Neither of them knew exactly how it had happened. Just that it simply did. They would later blame it on something in the latest meal; an imbalance caused by mysterious substances that had infiltrated their bodies. Honestly, it wouldn't even matter later. And now, all it mattered was the desperate need pumping through their blackened veins beneath flawless skin. The warmth that flowed through their bodies as zippers were tugged at, coats undone, leather pealed and pulled away from limbs too eager to touch, to explore, to ravish.

Kadaj groaned as his back slammed against the metal box which rattled behind him, the materia clinking against one another within. It lay there, forgotten, unimportant for the time being. The ground was cool beneath him – he felt it even through the leather that remained clinging to his legs. It was such a contrast to that hot eager body that eased the coat from his body. An appreciative sound escaped his lips, head tilting back as fingers tangled involuntarily onto long strands of shimmering silver – just a touch darker than his own perfectly duplicated tone.

He squirmed under the touch of digits – free from the black gloves they always donned – against the lines of his chest, flawless, perfect, beautiful. It was enough to drive him to a point of madness – albeit madness much different from the exhilaration of their mission, of their goal. No, this was different. That raw need was far too strong and he made it a point to let him know, yanking upon those silky strands. Matching green slitted eyes met his own; the usual relaxed, mischievous look was tainted with a lust he had not seen in a long time. Not like that. And although Kadaj appeared to give the orders, know what happened when it came down to business – away from public eyes, he was still the young, gorgeous teenager begging to be fucked until the insanity was wiped from his mind.

If only momentarily.

Yazoo said nothing, flashing him his usual crooked smirk before pushing the younger clone – they called them spirits – down against the earthy ground. Lips took to devouring a line down his neck, nipping at that flawless skin, tasting the sweetness that belonged to him only, tainted lightly by the usage of leather. Buckles were undone, straps pulled aside, just a little more… he felt Kadaj shivering beneath him, soft laughter touching his lips as long silver strands traced along his sides, tickling him in the process. It was the moments like these that reminded him just how sensitive Kadaj could actually be, given the right situation.

As his thoughts floated through his mind, his fingers worked, finally pulling those pants undone. He was fairly convinced that they were possibly a size too small – the way they hug his figure. There was no time to ponder upon such insignificant things, however, nor would Kadaj allow him that as he reached up, demanding a kiss – hot and feverish – a battle of possession and submission that, in the end, came to a draw of sorts. But never – ever – extended farther than that. Not when clothes were set aside in a rush; not when the younger clone – his once innocent little brother – demanded the ardent pain within him with a sort of paradox forceful submission.

There was nothing but compliance from him, however, as Yazoo leaned into that kiss, into the demanding touch. As he allowed those guttural cries escape the teenager's throat as damp fingers prepared him for further, more painful impact. But it wasn't pain Kadaj was feeling – they never did, and yet he carried out the ritual nevertheless. This time, however, it was cut short by the nearly incomprehensible cry that escaped his lips, begging for more as his body squirmed; arousal weeping.

Rewarded with shiver-inducing cries, breath tickling his ear, Yazoo forced that smaller body to turn, facedown to watch the once holy ground they now freely desecrated. He watched as fingers clawed at the earth, then bunched the mess of black that was his coat beneath his chest, using it as leverage. He watched through his half obstructed gaze as silver danced (more so than usual) in his line of sight, the expression of pure bliss every time their bodies met with burning intimacy, every time he slammed against him, rocking them both forward through that merciless rhythm that caused the air to come short through their lungs, their pulse to throb in their heads, the shimmer of materia to glow uncontrollably through damp, sweaty skin.

How he thrived in the look in those eyes. He had always noted that Kadaj had the most reflective eyes… you could sometimes read him like a book just from looking in those shimmering make-greens. And with the excuse of getting a better look, Yazoo tangled his fingers into that shoulder length hair, tugging his head back none-too-gently which caused a soft gasp, the widening of slitted cat-like pupils as they looked at one another for a short moment before he rocked them forward once more. It was then he cried out, white exploding behind his eyes as he doubled forward, pressing even closer against Kadaj's trembling body; such trembling heightened by the hand that tugged at his arousal, making it unbearable to hold on, to make it last, to further numb his mind in the buzzing bliss of sin – of passion.

No words of undying love were spoken – no such foolishness. The only sounds thereafter were the soft splashing of moon-lit water, the shuffling and creaking of leather, the scraping of metal weapons against the ground as they were picked up, the thudding of heavy boots.

It took only minutes for all to return to normal but not completely… it never did, and every time it happened, it was different. Yazoo's angular chin was tilted up by gloved fingers. Identical eyes met momentarily before Kadaj stole one last feverish kiss – he could still taste the hunger lingering in his mouth.

"It's time…" was all he muttered, voice husky, purring… but he knew better than to take it as having any relevance to anything other the thrill of the upcoming fight.

Yazoo merely nodded, rising from his kneeling position by the water's edge. His reflection stared back at him momentarily before his back was turned. There was business to attend to. Not even the burning sensation lingering upon his lips would distract him from that now.

Comments are nice... +shifty look+