Ever After

Panting heavily, Zidane dropped to his knees beside Kuja. The beautiful man didn't stir until Zidane lifted his head and supported his shoulders. Kuja sighed then and opened his eyes. He had hoped that Zidane would've just left him to die there, but truly, he was touched that the boy had come back for him. Seeing those icy eyes turn to him, Zidane was prompted to ask, "Hey! Are you alright?"

Kuja stalled. "Zidane," he groaned. He hurt everywhere-even in places he didn't know he had. He couldn't bring himself to admit this, even though it was obvious. So he dodged the question with, "What are you doing here? I thought I told you to go..."

Zidane smiled disarmingly as he carefully urged Kuja into a sitting position. "Wouldn't you do the same for me if you knew I was dying?" Pain quickly drowned the cruel remark on Kuja's lips and the beautiful man tensed in Zidane's arms. Surprised, hurt, and maybe a little sorry for causing Kuja pain, Zidane murmured a 'nevermind' and waited until Kuja recovered his composure.

After a deep breath, Kuja abruptly changed the subject, "Your comrades? They were able to escape?"

Zidane brightened and got his feet under him so he could help Kuja to stand. "Yeah... I knew you had something to do with it," he speculated.

Kuja, in no shape to argue gracefully accepted the credit, "...I'm glad they made it." Zidane's hands reached under his arms to help hoist him to his feet. Kuja made no move to help, though, and his sudden dead weight caused Zidane to lose his footing in some slick moss. Undaunted, the young man rose to his feet, patted some moss from his knees and said, "Yeah, well... it's our turn to get movin'."

Slumping forward, Kuja tucked his arms into his lap, giving Zidane nothing to help lift him. In his silence, he looked like a truly miserable creature, tattered, torn, and hugging his own shoulders. "After you beat me," he croaked, "I had nothing left... Nothing more to lose." Zidane rested his hands on Kuja's shoulders, ready to reply, but Kuja conintued. "Then, I finally realized what it means to live." Zidane kneeled down beside Kuja, surprised that such words had come from the man who was once his enemy. "I guess I was too late," Kuja admitted with a wry, pained smile.

Zidane reached out quickly to catch Kuja as he went limp and crumpled to one side. "Hey!! Don't you go dying on me, alright!?"

The limb which served as their perch rocked with a violent tremor. The Iifa tree had seemed to locate its lost prey. Zidane looked up in horror as a massive rope of roots crashed through the limbs above, descending to trap them. He had no where to run and he couldn't abandon Kuja, so Zidane bent over the beautiful man, shielding him from harm with his own body. The roots crashed down with the intensity of a thunderclap. Then there was nothing but darkness.

"Kuja... What you did was wrong..."

"But you gave us all one thing... Hope..."

"We were all created for the wrong reason, but you alone defied our fate."

"We do not want to forget this. We want your memory to live on forever..."

"...to remind us that we were not created for the wrong reason - that our life has meaning."

Mikoto paced along the cliffs that surrouned the Iifa tree. Her tail weaved right and left as she searched for Zidane. She knew she felt his presence and one other who she assumed was Kuja. She found a dead, twisted root that she could climb down in order to get closer to the trunk. They had to be in there somewhere, but with the sea of writhing roots and the dust from the explosion, she certainly couldn't see them from the cliff walls.

Hopping quickly from one root to another, Mikoto didn't stick around long enough to find out which roots were still alive or not. She just pushed on toward the heart of the tree and toward the sensation of the other two Genomes. A violent tremor threw her from her feet and she was forced to scramble for the limbs rushing past her in her descent. Her hand caught in a tangle of fibers growing out of one of the roots. She swung with her momentum to another perch and waited out the Iifa trees death throwes there.

The other two Genomes were much closer now.

Kuja couldn't tell whether he was alive or dead-whether he had opened his eyes or not. Darkness surrounded him, but it didn't feel like a void. There was warmth and a strange sense of security. Everything smelled like earth and then he felt a warm breath on his cheek. Where was he? Last he remembered--- "Zidane?" he whispered, barely able to take in a breath.

Zidane stirred from his nap. His head and neck ached and when he opened his eyes, all he could see was complete darkness. "Huh--? Kuja?" Where was Kuja? Things had become a bit crowded in their newly-formed prison of roots. From a weak cough below him, Zidane realized that he was straddling Kuja. Zidane apologized quietly and squeezed to the side to let Kuja sit up. There seemed to be much more room to stand than there was to sit.

"So is this how it ends? At least I won't die alone," Kuja resigned and he pushed his back to a wall and made his way, albeit uncomfortably, to a sitting position.

Zidane frowned in the darkness. "Would you stop talking that way? The Kuja I fought never gave up so easily." Already Zidane had pulled out his dagger intending to carve a hole in the roots and let in some light. He turned the dagger over in his hand and considered Kuja's words. It wasn't likely he could carve his way out. Is this really how the adventure would end?

Kuja brooded in the silence. Zidane had delivered a verbal slap in the face that he just couldn't ignore. Kuja became tired of facing his demise. Death missed twice, afterall and if that bastard didn't catch him either of those times then perhaps Kuja did hold the advantage. Still, he wasn't about to rise up and blast his way out of prison. He still hurt too much for that. A scratching from Zidane's side of the darkness drew a curious grunt from him.

Zidane alternately stabbed at the root and then carved a line down. The dagger wedged its way between two roots and with a quick jerk, Zidane drilled a hole between them. As he yanked his dagger free, the muted sunlight diffused through the prison, lending faint outlines at least.

Kuja rubbed a hand over his eyes tiredly. That beam of light lent him some hope. Zidane tucked his dagger away, satisfied with that little hole right now. He stretched his arms over his head, feeling renewed and confident that they could get free... somehow.

"Well, we won't die of exposure," Zidane chirped, reassuring himself more than Kuja.

"We'll starve before we get the chance," Kuja noted as a matter-of-fact. He hadn't given up yet, but he was pretty sure they couldn't survive by gnawing on the roots. Besides, he had no taste for Iifa roots.

Zidane crossed his arms and leaned back against the wall of their prison. It was true. And he'd already thought of that. He ran down the list of possibilites once again in his mind. There were the roots and moss here but those probably didn't have much nutritional value. His hand rolled over a buldge in his inner vest pocket. Curiously, he plucked the thing out of the pocket and held it up to the light. "What's this? It smells awful!"

Kuja peered at the oddly-shaped thing too. It seemed familiar, but in the low light, he really couldn't tell.

Zidane sniffed again, "Ugh! One of those pickles from Lindblum. I'd forgotten that Quina gave this to me." He offered it over to Kuja who declined with both a look of distaste and a groan. Zidane laughed, "Yeah, I know what you mean! I'd rather starve than have to eat one of these things." With that, he tried a nibble of the pickle and then made a gagging sound.

Kuja struggled to see what was going on in the dim light. He cracked a smile at Zidane's remark but it left quickly. There may have even been a chuckle, but it was lost to Zidane's gagging sounds. "Oh hey, which reminds me," Zidane said enthusiastically. "I do have one elixir from Dagger." He patted each of his multitude of pockets, searching for it. After he found the small vial, he popped the cork and offered the sickeningly sweet medicine to Kuja. "Here, Kuja. This should make you feel a bit better."

"An elixir?" Kuja asked as he accepted the vial. The syrup touched his split lip as he tilted the vial back. Kuja swallowed the liquid greedily. Immediately, that refreshing tingle surged through his body and those aching wounds protested much less violently. Kuja felt his powers returning along with a certainty that they would get free. Death would miss Kuja a third time and this thought caused the beautiful man to laugh low and menacing.

Zidane blinked. Perhaps healing Kuja wasn't such a good idea. That evil laugh sent shivers through Zidane and without being able to see Kuja clearly, Zidane wasn't so certain of the man's intent. "So, um, feeling better, I take it?" Zidane ventured.

Kuja licked the rim of the vial. Oh, he was feeling better and now that he was getting one more chance at living, he felt ecstatic! "Come closer, Zidane. It's my turn to rescue you."

Mikoto awoke to the keen of some of the strange birds that nested in the Iifa tree. She rubbed her eyes and glanced up from her mossy bed. Having searched all through the night, Mikoto found herself no closer to that sensation as she had after the tremor. She had to retrace her path time and again as the roots would suddenly drop off, or become an unscalable gnarl. As the sun set, she found a bed of moss under the cover of some roots.

Now, she stood and tried to regain her bearings. The sensation of the two Genomes was much more powerful now. They must have rested too, which was a good sign. If Zidane and Kuja were too weak to make it out, Mikoto would be hard pressed to find a way to assist them.

Judging by the sun, Mikoto figured the two were due west and so followed as direct a path as she could toward that strange tingling.

Kuja kindled a small flame onto a piece of cloth which he'd tucked into the elixir vial to make a makeshift lantern. It wouldn't last long, he knew, but he only needed it long enough to check the dimensions of their prison. As Zidane had ascertained, it was much taller than it was wide. There was enough room for them to stand shoulder to shoulder across, but the roof of their prison stretched up three or four people high. That was the impression Kuja got, anyway, the light could only pierce the darnkess so far.

Zidane sat at Kuja's feet as the man probed the makeshift lantern into the darkness above them. "So," he asked, "Do you have any ideas, Kuja?"

Kuja lowered the lantern and the gleam the small flame lent to his eyes was uncanny. "Flare may be able to blow the roots above away, but I'm not certain how much backlash there might be in this tight space."

Zidane winced. He's felt the power of the flare spell before and he really didn't care to be trapped in an oven-like environment with the damages of that spell. "Uh, well. Any other ideas? Can you try to freeze the roots instead?"

Kuja ran a hand down one of the roots. "They're too thick. Even if I can freeze them, we won't be able to shatter them." The man wished he could pace. That always helped him think. In this small space, though, all he could do was drop down facing Zidane in the low light and watch the young man's eyes dance back and forth while they studied each other's faces.

Smiling knowlingly, Kuja reclined back against the wall. Zidane could see Kuja's white tail wrapped loosely about the man's waist and draping down over one thigh. Kuja followed Zidane's gaze down and mistook the glance. "You know, Zidane," he began in almost a purr, "I don't think I'll ever be able to fully repay you for what you've done for me." Kuja shifted his position to allow Zidane a tantalizing glance of what lay under his codpiece.

Zidane blinked as his attention unbiddenly slipped to the light blushing flesh under Kuja's clothing. A moment after it was revealed, the little lantern snuffed out. Zidane sighed with relief.

Again, misreading Zidane's signals, Kuja pressed on in his game undauntedly. He leaned forward on his hands until he could feel Zidane's breath on his face. "I can begin with this," Kuja continued after an uncomfortable silence.

Zidane felt Kuja's hot, soft lips on his at that moment. He sputtered and flattened himself against his wall. Kuja continued to kiss him heatedly until Zidane could wrench his head away. "K-Kuja!" Zidane coughed.

Kuja laughed and sat back on his knees. He knew that would surprise the young man. "Did you enjoy that? I could give you so much more."

The younger man was appalled. "No! Kuja I-"

An almost pouty expression touched Kuja's lips as he sat there in the near-darkness. "What do you mean 'no'? I just want you to know my appreciation for all that you've done."

Zidane rubbed the back of his head. He really couldn't think of a way to put it delicately. Here he was, the charming guy who got all the girls. Naturally, he thought, a cross-dresser would fall in love with him too. He didn't want to flat out deny Kuja. He didn't want to hurt the guy's feelings. Zidane knew very well what a broken heart felt like. But sheesh, Kuja (although none of them knew it at first) was a guy!

"Well, thanks Kuja-I mean, you're welcome, but y'know I don't know if this is right."

Kuja licked his lips. He did like the feel of Zidane's lips on his. That was the first time he'd kissed anyone without an ulterior motive. This time, though, there was actually emotion behind it. "How could it be less right, Zidane? I want to show you what you mean to me. Afterall, what else can we do? We're trapped in here."

"Yeah! So let's work on a way to get out, okay? No offense, but I have better places to be."

"I have an idea," Kuja began thoughtfully.

"Go ahead," Zidane pressed.

"No, I want another kiss first," Kuja purred teasingly.

Zidane slumped and rolled his shoulders in a shrug. "Fine, if it will get us out." He smiled to himself. How many times had he pulled that trick on the girls? Maybe there was a strange family resemblance here. Besides, Kuja wasn't really a bad kisser and in the darkness, Zidane could pretend it was Dagger.

Again, Kuja leaned forward and brushed his lips over Zidane's. The boy's lips were firm but warm. As Kuja probed those lips with the tip of his tongue, he tasted that vinegary tang of the pickle Zidane had nibbled from earlier. What an unusual flavor. Kuja wanted to devour the boy then, starting at his lips, but he did promise to reveal his plan, so after caressing Zidane's cheek, Kuja parted from the kiss and rose to his feet.

"Wow," Zidane sighed, barely audible over the rustling of Kuja's clothing. Even if that wasn't a kiss from Dagger, it was pretty intense. He shook the thought out of his head and rubbed a gloved hand over his mouth. "So uh, yeah. What's your plan, Kuja?"

The man was already putting his plan into action before Zidane asked. Purple, mist-like tendrils curled around his hands. A spell danced ready on Kuja's fingertips. Zidane ducked, anticipating Ultima or some other super-destructive spell. Instead, Kuja released that glow slowly into the roots around them. There was a crackling like paper crumpling. The scent of decay oozed into the prison. Zidane glanced up curiously. Wasn't there supposed to be an earth-shattering kaboom?

Kuja dropped his hand to his side and smiled. Undoubtedly, Zidane expected something flashier from him. In a smug tone, Kuja remarked, "Death. It's an easy enough spell." He pushed on the wall. Pieces of the root flaked away under his hand, but there was still an undeniable rigidity. "It may take a few more castings to free us though," Kuja frowned. "But I guarantee we will be free."

Zidane laughed and lept to his feet. "Haha! Great!" He didn't know whether to hug Kuja or give him a firm pat on the shoulder. Did Kuja need either encouragement? Zidane decided to just rest a hand on the man's shoulder and smile another one of those disarming smiles. "So, you wanna play some Tetra Master to pass the time?"

The beautiful man pressed close to Zidane until he could feel the pommel of his dagger between them. Kuja ground his hip gently into the pommel, excited by the sensations it stirred. "There's not enough light to play that, but I have another game in mind," he purred to Zidane.

Zidane wondered if he ever came on this strong to women. Well of course not -- he was the suave charmer, after all. Or so he liked to think. Kuja had gone beyond playful teasing to downright insistent. Worse yet, Zidane was oddly excited by it. Maybe it was just a jumble of emotions, but Zidane felt himself straining against his pants.

Kuja heard Zidane's gulp in the silence. Taking it as his signal to proceed, Kuja lowered his head to kiss Zidane on the neck this time. Beads of sweat slicked Kuja's lips as he kissed a line up to Zidane's chin to linger teasingly in front of the boy's lips. Zidane released a trembling sigh and Kuja pressed on, licking a wavering line across Zidane's cheek. As the boy's hair tickled his nose, Kuja sucked hard on his earlobe.

Zidane surrendered to the heady sensations. The rest of the world seemed to melt away. Zidane found himself stroking Kuja's bare sides. The warmth between them drove his need to explore this beautiful man. Resting his face in the torn shoulder of Kuja's overcoat, Zidane hugged the man close. His hands twined behind Kuja's back and Zidane worked his hands free of his gloves.

Mikoto stopped and turned. The sensation of the two Genomes was behind her now. She'd passed them for the forth time and couldn't seem to center in on them. She sighed and walked with heavy steps back around the column of roots that rose from the trunk and bore down so far they disappeared into the darkness of the canyon. Where could they be?

A dancing breeze tickled past her nose, carrying the stench of decay. Mikoto looked around her, fearing some undead monster might be stalking her. Instead, she noticed veins of discoloration on the column of roots directly beside her. She reached out to touch the strange veins and patches of the root turned to dust under her hand. Decay? Was the Iifa tree dying so quickly?

Zidane kneaded Kuja's slender ass. They were locked in another passionate kiss. Kuja's tail had come free in the excitement and now both of their tails wrestled each other while they embraced. Zidane ached. His erection throbbed painfully and he desperately wanted to free it, but he couldn't bring himself to break the kiss. Kuja's thigh pressed between Zidane's legs. The kiss slowed and Kuja chuckled into Zidane's mouth. "Do you need help with that," Kuja whispered over Zidane's lips.

"Help wi---mmmm," Zidane lost his question to a pleased moan as he felt Kuja's slim fingers tickle his cock over the fabric of his pants.

Kuja knelt down without any prompting and deftly unfastened Zidane's belt. Teasingly slow, Kuja pulled the boy's pants down until that erect cock sprung free. The light in their prison was dim, but the dewlike drop of precum shone on the tip of Zidane's prick like a beacon in the night.

Zidane nearly burst when he felt Kuja's tongue rolling over the sensative head of his penis. His fingers tangled into Kuja's feather-like strands of hair and be barely resisted the urge to pull Kuja's head down onto his manhood. To the contrary, Kuja didn't seem to need much coaxing. He pressed forward, wetting Zidane's cock with his saliva and then pulling back again. He quickly repeated this motion, this time letting that throbbing member brush the back of his throat.

The boy wanted to beg him to go on. He wanted to scream with his lust to continue, but all he could muster was a choked moan. Kuja brought him so close! But Zidane wanted this to last.

Kuja had plans, himself.

Watching Kuja rise to his feet, again, Zidane regarded the beautiful man curiously. Kuja unclasped his belt and the whole mechanism released his codpiece and kilt together. Zidane wondered if it was designed for a quick disrobe like that. Knowing Kuja....

The beautiful man stepped forward and pressed his curving cock against Zidane's. The boy reached over and stroked Kuja's member tentatively. He grasped his cock and Kuja's together loosely in both hands and moved so they rubbed together tantalizingly. Kuja placed his hands on the boy's shoulders and leaned in for another kiss.

The veins seemed to center down on one point in the roots. Mikoto traced them back to their source. That's when she spotted the hole carved between the roots. She peered in, careful not to block the light. Inside she saw movement. She saw hair not unlike hers and realized that had to be Zidane! The sensation of the Genomes inside was unmistakable. But was he alright? He was moving, so she assumed he was fine. Then again, one never knows. She pressed her ear to the wall of the roots and listened intently.

Calling the shots as he had from the beginning, Kuja pushed Zidane down into a reclined position. He straddled the boy and then dipped his fingers past his own moist lips. Zidane couldn't see now with Kuja leaning over him and he wondered what the hesitation was. "Kuja wha-" "Sssh!" Kuja interrputed him. Zidane then felt Kuja's weight settling down on his cock.

Kuja closed his eyes tight. He'd felt worse pain, but that was never so deliberate. As the head of Zidane's penis penetrated his asshole he had to stop and wait out the searing pain. It took a long moment to consciously relax and then he eased down further on the younger man's cock.

"Oh god!" Zidane gasped into Kuja's chest. "...so tight." He could feel Kuja's precum soaking the belly of his shirt. Zidane was paralyzed for the moment by the intesity of that hot pressure around his member, though. He barely remembered to breathe!

Panting, Kuja rose and lowered himself in a slow, building rhythm. The motion became easier and his sphincter began to relax with the repetition. Kuja felt himself growing close to a climax, though, and wasn't sure how long he could keep up the pumping.

Zidane recovered the use of his arms and reached between them to stroke Kuja's cock firmly. The stroking motion was halting, but seemed to drive the intensity of Kuja's bouncing. Zidane felt the knot of pressure in his nuts. He was going to come soon and the heat flushed through his body.

Kuja felt Zidane's cock expand and then empty inside him. He trembled and then released into Zidane's palm. His hot fluid burst forth with enough force to squirt between Zidane's fingers. Zidane, in turn, could feel Kuja's ass flexing around him. The entire experience was mind-numbing and soon, the lovers were reduced to a jumble of limbs and panting chests in the afterglow.

Mikoto beat on the walls of the root column. Large flakes of root fell away under her fists. She threw blow after blow into the wall until her arms were numb and bloody. "Zidane!" she cried. The dust of the dead roots choked her, but after clearing her throat, she continued. "Hang on, I'll find a way to get you out!"

"Huh? Did you say something?"

Kuja shook his head as a silent answer. Zidane felt the motion on his shoulder and shrugged. "Weird, I thought I heard someone calling my name again." Zidane sighed and went back to enjoying the afterglow. He could feel his dick softening as they sat there together. Kuja's semen was sticky between his fingers. As the heat of the moment seeped away, Zidane suddenly felt very guilty and awkward.

"Hey, Kuja. Can I ask you something?"

Kuja shifted and let Zidane's softening prick slide free. He stayed straddling the younger man, though, and stroked his hair. "Please do."

"Well, you see. That was great and everything." Zidane stumbled over his own words, desperate not to hurt Kuja's feelings or ruin the moment. He really did enjoy Kuja's company (what littled they'd shared as not-enemies), and, of course, he still feared Kuja's wrath. "I mean, it was really awesome! ...but."

"But your canary," Kuja filled in wryly.

"Huh?"

"Princess Garnet."

"Oh," Zidane replied quietly. From the sounds of it Kuja wasn't so happy about the turn of events.

"Forget about her, Zidane. We have so much more in common. Do you think she'll have time for you while she's ruling Alexandria?"

That had never occurred to Zidane, but he knew-or he hoped that somehow it could work out. ...maybe. "Well, sure. I mean, she promised me."

"She probably thinks you died trying to save me. I wouldn't be surprised if she'd sought some comfort of that bumbling knight. How long would promises-"

Zidane had heard enough. Maybe there was more of the old Kuja still there than he thought. "Kuja," he began in a firm tone, but then relaxed as he continued. "Look. I'm still alive and I remember our promise, so it won't die with me. I have to make every effort I can to get back to her. That's what love is about."

Kuja sneered into Zidane's hair. So who was going to love him? "So, by that reasoning, you hate me?"

"No!" Zidane protested quickly. He pushed back on Kuja so he could look into his eyes. "I don't hate you, Kuja. I don't even dislike you. I do have feelings for you, but I'm not quite sure what they are. It's love, I guess-a sort of love, but not like I love Dagger."

Kuja's heart spiraled into a sudden pit in his stomach. He'd thought his life was going to change, but now he was facing a lonely existence again. He pushed off Zidane bitterly and turned his back on the boy as he dressed.

"Man," Zidane groaned as he lurched to his feet. He really thought he was making progress on Kuja and now he destroyed it all in less than a minute. After he pulled on his pants and refastened his belt. "So what do you want me to do, Kuja?" he probed for any compramise. He didn't think either of them could really win in this situation.

Kuja stared out the peephole in the roots. "I want you to stay."

"But I can't. You know I can't."

Kuja spun on him, suddenly angry. "The hell you can't! You may as well be dead to them, Zidane!" He quieted and straightened his tattered overcoat. "You wouldn't understand what it's like to be alone."

Zidane leaned back against the wall of their prison. Yeah, he'd figured that was the real cause of Kuja's anxiety. "What? You mean the hopeless desolation of watching happy people with families, jobs, and day-to-day lives? People with a place to call home and people to call friends? The fear of dying alone or spending one more rainy night talking to yourself? Oh sure, Kuja. I don't know anything about that." He made it a point to let Kuja know he was being sarcastic before he went on. "That's how I spent the first umpteen years of my life. I didn't remember having a family or a hometown. Even when I found a place to live, I didn't feel I had anything until Baku took me in."

Kuja wound his tail back around his waist and hid it away again. "And then you had a family. I don't even have that, Zidane."

"I may as well be family!" Zidane protested.

"Exactly. And you're leaving me."

Zidane pursed his lips. Kuja did have a point. "Well, you could come back to Alexandria with me."

Kuja shook his head. There was a long silence and then he responded verbally. "No. I can't face them."

"Lindblum? I'm sure Regent Ci--,"

"No! Zidane," he turned back to the peephole, "Don't you understand? I nearly destroyed their world. They remember me and I'll never forget what I tried to do to them. Even if I do find a place to call home, I'll be a focus of their hatred. I don't want to live with that." Kuja hated baring his soul like this, but in this small space he felt that he could at least confide in Zidane.

"You want me to stay, huh?" Zidane didn't need a response, but the pause after the question was more for him to gather his thoughts. "How about this, Kuja. I stay with you for one year, get you settled, help you build a home, you know, get you a life." Zidane smiled sheepishly. That could've been taken wrong, but he seemed to have Kuja's full attention. "Then after a year you can decide whether you're ready to face them or not. Either way, I'll come back and visit. I'll even bring my friends if you want!"

It was better than nothing, Kuja admitted to himself. Perhaps he was just being too greedy expecting Zidane to stay with him exclusively. Greed belonged with the old Kuja. He wanted to rise above that. With a solemn nod, Kuja agreed to Zidane's proposition.

Zidane smiled, but deep down he longed to see Garnet again. Wordlessly, he promised her he'd return.