Ever After, Part 2

The sound of the scraping on the outer walls of their prison caused both Kuja and Zidane to jump to alert. Kuja, being closest to the peephole, peered out first. When he couldn’t see anything, he turned back to Zidane with a shrug. Zidane traced the sound to a particular spot on the wall and began beating against the wall with all his might.

Mikoto stopped when she felt, more than heard, Zidane beating on the interior walls. "Zidane!" She ran around to the peephole. "Zidane! Are you okay?" Mikoto peered in and wasn’t surprised by what she saw. One pink-painted eyelid over a cool blue eye peered at her. "Kuja," she said in relief. Kuja nodded inside and stepped back.

Zidane replaced Kuja and Mikoto could see that smile in his eyes. She lifted the crude saw of myconid teeth to show him. "I’ll have you out soon. Are you both okay?"

Zidane nodded, though the motion was lost in the very limited visibility Mikoto had. "We’re fine," he shouted back. "Hurry, though. I really gotta pee!"

Mikoto laughed despite her usually reserved nature and went back to work with renewed vigor.

Inside, Zidane turned to Kuja with a wide smile. Kuja just shook his head and feigned disinterest in Zidane’s joke. "Hey, this way we can reserve your power for fighting the monsters out there," the boy noted with enthusiasm.

Kuja examined his fingernails and allowed a small smile to touch his lips. "The monsters wouldn’t stand a chance even if I was at half power." Those icy blue eyes trailed back to Zidane to catch his reaction. The younger man laughed and clapped Kuja on the shoulder. This was going to be an interesting year.

After another death spell and Mikoto’s efforts with the saw, Zidane and Kuja were able to break free from the prison of roots. They both embraced Mikoto in turn and decided after leaving the canyon that they should travel back to Conde Petie to recover and get some supplies. As they walked along, Mikoto reminded them of the roots that blocked the mountain path. Zidane shrugged the problem away and noted that their biggest problem with roots was behind them.

When they reached the mountain path, they found many of the roots had retracted, leaving enormous scars in the land. They navigated carefully up the mountain to circumvent the holes. From there, it was an easy, downhill journey to Conde Petie. The dwarves were a tough people, it seemed. The worldwide quakes had wrecked parts of their structures, but from the nature of the town itself...being supported, it didn’t suffer as much damage as other towns. In light of the town being close to the epicenter of the quakes, the dwarves came away relatively unscathed. Now they worked busy repairing their dwellings and harvesting their crops for the end of the season.

As the group entered the town, they were greeted with a loud ‘Rally-ho!’ and then left to their business. The three travelers stayed the night. Kuja had his clothes mended while Mikoto and Zidane discussed where they should settle for the next year. The dwarves watched Kuja with a bit of apprehension, but if Zidane was traveling with him, there couldn’t be too much to be worried about.

Zidane finally decided on settling in Madain Sari. There was adequet furnishings there and even a luxury like a kitchen. The moogles would be helpful in gathering supplies, but otherwise Kuja could find the seclusion he wanted for the time being. Mikoto mentioned that she wanted to go back to the Black Mage Village, at least for a time, but she would be happy to join them in Madain Sari.

"Just make sure that you don’t mention Kuja and I are staying there, okay?" Zidane asked Mikoto. "Word travels fast in that town and even though I hate to keep it from Vivi... You know." Mikoto simply nodded.

The next morning, the three split company one traveling southeast to the Black Mage village and the other two north to Madain Sari. Along the way, Kuja fell into quiet contemplation. Zidane looked back often to make sure the man was still with him. He even tried to make conversation a few times, but Kuja’s answers where short and empty at best. Zidane just left him to his thoughts, figuring he just needed more time to adjust to all the changes. Kuja wasn’t looking forward, though. He was contemplating his past.

Scenes swirled below them; lighting and fire, smoke and swirling clouds. The visuals were horrific for the child to behold and he crowded closer to the man he called father. Garland rested an enormous hand on the boy’s small shoulder. He spoke words that were lost to time. The summoners, the people of Madain Sari fled in terror or died where they lived. Young Kuja was forced to witness their demise.

"They couldn’t defend themselves..."

Zidane looked over his shoulder with a curious, "Huh?"

Kuja shook his head and gestured the younger man to keep walking. Zidane stopped fully and shrugged off his pack. "Let’s take a break and have some lunch," Zidane offered. The trip wasn’t all that difficult, but Kuja looked exhausted by something. Zidane plopped down and patted the ground. "C’mon, Kuja. Tell me what’s on your mind."

Taking a deep breath, Kuja finally settled down close to Zidane. The boy wrapped an arm over the beautiful man’s shoulder and pulled him close. Hey, Zidane figured, he would do the same for Garnet and right now Kuja was his Garnet-substitute. Kuja appreciated the gesture. The closeness helped fill that pit of sorrow and confusion that took the place of all the rage he held for the world. Kuja relaxed and rested his head on Zidane’s shoulder.

They finished an apple together before Kuja finally broke the silence. "Do you know, that when I was young, I thought it a grand game..."

Zidane remained silent. He felt Kuja really needed to get something off his chest and the sooner the better. Kuja continued on his own as it seemed Zidane had nothing to offer. "I hated them all anyway, so it didn’t matter to me that they were no more than playing pieces in that game." A knot hardened in Kuja’s chest as he continued in a building cadence. "He wanted me to hate them! He fed my desire to win that game. His toys, all of them, were training for my ‘mission’."

Kuja was shouting hysterically before Zidane grabbed him by the shoulders and gave him a firm shake. "Kuja! Hey. Whoa man." Kuja’s eyes were maddened, and his eyes were little but black pinpoints in a pink-tainted iris. Zidane swallowed hard and fell back on his butt. He didn’t think someone could trance just like that, but apparently, Kuja almost had. That certainly wouldn’t have been a good thing. "Kuja," Zidane said, as if he were trying to call him back to sanity.

Those pink eyes faded to icy blue in a couple of blinks. Kuja felt that knot in his chest unravel and bent his head forward to hide unbidden tears. Zidane was suitably freaked out. How many sides of Kuja was he going to see in five minutes? Sheesh. Emotional stability was Zidane’s first goal for that man. He could work on the rest after that.

Zidane crawled forward on his hands and knees and tried to sneak a glance into Kuja’s eyes. "Hey man. It’s okay. It’s been rough, I know. It’s over, though. I’m here. I’m gonna help ya. C’mon, I don’t wanna see my big bro cry."

Kuja didn’t respond to that, so Zidane tried, "You’re pretty sexy when you cry, y’know." When all else fails, Zidane thought as he smiled, pour on the charm.

Not expecting that remark, Kuja glanced up and was met by a devilish smile from Zidane. The boy’s clownishness gave rise to a weak chuckle in the man’s chest and Kuja forced a smile. Zidane reached out to pet Kuja’s hair and the man’s smile grew more sincere. "What would have happened if we grew up together," Kuja whispered hoarsely.

Zidane thought for a moment and then chirped, "You probably would’ve killed me, but ha! You missed your chance." Zidane hopped up to his feet and danced a turn. "So c’mon! Let’s catch up on some quality time already. Let’s go be bachelors."

Kuja laughed. For once it wasn’t cruel, or harsh, or taunting. Kuja laughed for joy.

After that, Zidane never witnessed Kuja experience another breakdown. Their first week at Madain Sari was busy with arranging living quarters and working on a friendly relationship with the moogles. Kuja left most of the communication with the moogles to Zidane. Their squeaking and chirping gave him a migraine. That, and Kuja just lacked the patience to deal with them. The man was absorbed with digging through the rubble of the town and finding pieces of the lost civilization. Some things brought back tragic memories, but sorting through the remains, Kuja was able to reconcile himself with the lost inhabitants of the town.

Zidane did most of the cooking, as simple as it was. He grilled fish or made fish stew. By the end of the first month, Kuja was sick of fish in its various forms. Zidane speculated that it was time to try growing their own food. Two farming monkeys. What a sight that would be!

"Okay!" Zidane clapped his gloved hands together and hefted the hoe he’d made of a large flat stone and a sturdy pole. "Kuja, could you bring me some water from the fountain? That should make this a little easier."

Kuja left wordlessly, leaving Zidane to the difficult task of breaking the dry, ruined earth. On this way to the fountain, Kuja passed the twisted remains of plants or decorative trees...what few had survived the harsh sun and wind, that is. He remembered that this region had once been lush and abundant. The Iifa tree had long since sucked the life from the soil, though. Kuja was doubtful that anything of value would grow, but even small, bitter vegetables would be better than fish at this point.

Dipping an earthen jar into the fountain, Kuja drew enough water to moisten the thirsty ground. He hefted the jar onto his shoulder and balanced it while he carefully walked back to where Zidane was carving a dry wound into the dusty ground. Carefully, Kuja lowered the jar to the ground. From several paces behind Zidane, he just watched the young man quietly. Zidane was breaking the earth in earnest as if he didn’t have a doubt in his mind that something would grow. How could he be so optimistic? Surely Zidane saw the ruin all around him. Kuja was jealous for all that hope. Is that what fueled Zidane’s success? Is that optimism the root of his charm? Though uncertain for the reason, Kuja smiled and brought the water closer to Zidane.

The younger man turned and offered Kuja a thankful smile. Zidane then noticed a similar smile on Kuja’s face and his own expression shifted to puzzlement. "Hey, Kuja. What’s on your mind?"

"How do you do it?" Kuja asked evenly, still baring that smile.

Zidane blinked curiously. "Huh? Well, it’s hard work, but if you keep at it, you can break it up." Zidane looked around him at his work. He’d done a fair job of carving one long line into the hard soil.

Kuja shook his head. "No. No, not that. How do you keep your spirits up when you’re surrounded by," he gestured to the surrounding area absently, "This desolation?"

Zidane shrugged and smiled enormously. "It’s just something I do, y’know?" His tail flicked as he crossed his arms over his chest and looked rather pleased with himself. "I’ve been through worse and heck, this is practically a paradise."

Kuja laughed...just one, almost barking-like sound at Zidane’s absurdity. "I wish I could see the world as you do," he admitted, turning solemn.

The younger man bent down to pick up the makeshift hoe. "And why can’t you?"

"Because, I’ve seen too much," the other sighed.

Zidane shrugged and set back to work. "Think of it this way, Kuja. You’re much better off than some people in the world. You have your freedom, your health, a place to live, and someone to love." The hoe cut the ground with a rhythmic scraping sound.

Kuja considered that for a time. He couldn’t argue Zidane’s logic there. The younger man forgot to add that he was also beautiful, powerful, and wealthy...not that he had anywhere to spend that wealth. Kuja watched Zidane work for a while longer until he remembered the clay jar at his feet. Diligently, he lifted the jar and poured the water carefully over the starved, broken ground. The earth drank greedily and it took two more jars before the patch would yield easily to the hoe.

Sweat ran down the line between Zidane’s shoulderblades in long rivulets. He had long since removed his vest and shirt to keep cool while working. Kuja had done likewise, following the younger man’s raking and planting seeds after him. The sun beat down on both of them relentlessly, until Kuja felt weary from the heat. At that time, the both took a break to sit and enjoy some of the cool water from the fountain.

Kuja pried his tattered, leather boots from his legs. He curled and flexed his long toes while the barest whisper of a breeze off the coast cooled the sweat from his feet. Both of them stunk from exhaustion, but Kuja felt somehow more alive. Zidane emptied half of the jar over his head, cooling himself quickly and washing a greater part of the dust from his upper body. Kuja watched intently as the water tumbled and danced down Zidane’s well-formed chest. Most of the water soaked into the younger man’s pants, making them cling to his legs and buttocks. Despite his exhaustion, Kuja felt himself craving Zidane’s body again. Kuja rose to his feet with the pretense of helping Zidane with his impromptu shower.

After emptying that jar of water, the beautiful man walked barefoot across the warm soil to draw some more. He returned to find Zidane standing with his hands on his hips and appraising the work they’d done that after noon. Together, they’d actually made a respectable garden. Cinna would’ve been proud of this. His thoughts drifted back to the troupe and he couldn’t help but smile as scenes from the past drifted past his mind’s eye. He wondered how Blank and Marcus were doing. Had Ruby found any success with her new theater in Alexandria? How about Baku? Zidane’s shoulders bounced with a chuckle when he remembered Baku’s thunderous sneezes.

A torrent of cool water slapped Zidane’s shoulders and he nearly squeeled in surprise! Kuja stood behind him with a gentle, but pleased smile on his lips. There was no malice there and Zidane found himself truly loving Kuja in that moment. Still, a nasty prank like that couldn’t go unpunished. Zidane flicked some water from his arms at Kuja and hopped forward to snag the jar from his older brother’s grasp. The two wrestled for a time and eventually ended up soaked, on the ground, and in each others’ arms once more. Kuja brushed Zidane’s wet hair back from his face and leaned close to place his lips on the younger man’s cheek affectionately. Zidane rolled onto his back and grinned up at Kuja.

"What are you thinking?" Kuja asked with a warm fondness in his voice. He leaned his upper body over Zidane’s and watched his face intently.

"Oh, I was just thinking about my time with the Tantalus troupe."

Kuja grinned. "Oh? And did things like this happen often?"

Zidane tilted his head back and laughed. "Heh, it rarely became this intiment, but we used to play like that a lot while setting up for a job."

"Rarely?" Kuja pressed with a sly smile. "So you’re saying it has happened?"

Zidane raised his eyebrows. The thought of someone like Marcus ending up on the ground with him like this seemed strange. He once had a dream about Blank ending up in a similar position once, though. Zidane just excused that as his closeness to Blank. He wasn’t sure how Blank could handle a romantic relationship with him. Neither could seem to hold down a relationship with any one female...well, except for Ruby. Zidane broke his reverie and shrugged under Kuja, "Not to me, at least."

Kuja hovered over Zidane’s lips and felt the boy sigh. "So, I take it you don’t mind?" He didn’t give Zidane a chance to answer. His kiss was soft, but exploring. Zidane’s gloved hands tickled down Kuja’s bare back, giving rise to goosebumps despite the heat. They rolled over each other on the ground. Both seemed to pour their passion into that embrace, but more intensely into the kiss. There was need, hunger, but a certain affection to that embrace. It goes for both sexes, that the members of same sex seem to understand how to please each other very well. Kuja and Zidane demonstrated how one man could please another and bring him back for round after round of release.

Sucking one ball into his mouth, Kuja stroked Zidane’s hard prick. The younger man writhed on the ground in his pleasure. He had already come once, so the next orgasm was far away. The time spent building up to that orgasm was long, intense, and sweet torture. Kuja wiggled a wet finger into Zidane’s ass while continuing to stroke him. Zidane gasped and almost sat up. No one had ever done that to him, and Kuja really hadn’t given him any warning. Still, it wasn’t an unpleasant sensation. Zidane eased back and opened his legs a little wider. He wanted to feel that again, and a bit deeper. Zidane had heard stories about some kind of spot inside that felt really good.

Apparently, Kuja had heard the same rumours. Kuja stroked Zidane’s prostate with a deft caress. Zidane nearly doubled over himself in pleasure, and his cock flexed under Kuja’s hand. Dry orgasms are rare in men, but not unheard of. Kuja licked his lips and withdrew his finger from Zidane’s ass. It felt clean in that hot closeness, too. Kuja leaned over Zidane, teasing the hole with the slender head of his slightly curved cock.

"Would you like more," Kuja purred for permission to enter.

Zidane actually gave it some thought, but then finally conceeded. He remembered how wonderful he felt in Kuja’s ass. That burning tightness was mindblowing and he wanted to feel it from the other side. Kuja settled his hips between Zidane’s legs and made sure the head of his cock was sufficiently wet. Then firmly, but carefully, he pressed into Zidane’s tight little anus. Zidane gasped and gritted his teeth. The pressure and hardness of Kuja’s cock felt like a hot iron being shoved up his ass, but as he exhaled, the sensation became admittedly more pleasant.

Kuja purred comforting words to the younger man. He let himself slide out a bit and then push in deeper. This time he felt Zidane’s sphincter clench around his cock in twitching spasms. "Can you take it?" Kuja asked, honestly concerned.

Zidane panted and closed his eyes, forcing himself to relax. "Are there any other positions that are easier? I really want to feel it."

After withdrawing, Kuja guided Zidane to his knees. He pet Zidane’s dusty buttocks and then massaged his balls lovelingly. He gave Zidane time to relax before he positioned himself for another try. Wetting the head of his cock, Kuja pressed into Zidane’s ass again. This time, the passage seemed much easier and after a few short, easy strokes, Kuja had buried himself in Zidane to the base of his cock. Zidane rubbed his cheek in the dust. His tail curled up and over Kuja’s shoulder. Zidane could feel his heartbeat in the hardness of his erection. All of the sensations were so intense, he was numb in his extremities. Zidane had never felt anything like it before. Then Kuja leaned over him to caress his front with tickling fingers.

Zidane shifted with Kuja inside him. Kuja mm’ed softly and set a slow rhythm in his thrusts. Even at a slow pace, Zidane’s one ring of muscles clenched him so tight, he thought his cock would simply fall off. That one ring stroking up and down his shaft made his entire body quiver. Kuja felt almost religious at that moment. All that he’d done in his past seemed so far away. He couldn’t even remember why he’d done it. All there was at that moment was the tremendous sex...his cock stretching Zidane open like a giant, forcing a cave into a canyon. It’s uncertain who came first, but they both ended sprawled on the ground, sticky and filthy from the red dust clinging to their sweat-drenched, and sunburned bodies.