My Canary... Mine.

AN: Oh, it's wonderful to see that there are people reading this! I won't stop updating then. I've got it all planned out... Thank you to everyone who's reviewed, it really does make my day! ^_~

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Zidane’s screams filled the air and Kuja almost moaned aloud just hearing them.

The young genome seemed to forget his hatred in the heat of the moment, arching his hips towards Kuja’s inviting mouth. Each time he bucked forward he yelled out, and Kuja would pull him closer. He hit his orgasm with a sudden rush, and, utterly wrapped in ecstasy, Kuja swallowed, making his victim cry his name. And eventually, as his screams began to fade, Zidane’s body relaxed against the bed, and with a moan, he pulled away from his so-called master. Kuja turned onto his back, lying with his head on Zidane’s stomach, and gasped. They lay there for a moment, recovering.

Then Kuja drifted his fingers along the curve of Zidane’s waist, tutting slightly. “Such... noise you made, canary....” he sighed breathlessly. “Did you enjoy it that much?” Predictably, he received no answer, other than Zidane’s exhausted breathing.

Kuja lifted himself away from Zidane slowly, looking down on his victim with one last longing look, kissing the now limp member to hear one last whimper. A dizzy spell caught him as he stood, and he realised just how hot the room had become. The candles were stifling; he had risen too quickly. Grasping onto the bedposts, he guided himself to his armchair and lifted a hand to his head, closing his eyes, waiting for the spinning to stop.

When he opened his eyes, he saw another inquisitive pair looking at him from under a dishevelled fringe. Zidane was looking at him with darkened eyes, curious, dulled with sadness. Kuja gave him a brief smile. “Just... the heat of the moment, my love.” The blond shook his head slowly and turned away again. “Still angry?” the older genome sighed. “I’m sure I can persuade you to forgive me.” He rose again, slower this time, and removed his shirt, casting it carelessly onto the chair. The skirt had long been abandoned. He stood, minimally covered but arrogant and confident as ever, and felt the cool air touch his skin. Oh, life was worth all the suffering for moments like this.

And sights like that.

He watched his young lover, deliciously tied up like a gift, avoiding his gaze, and knelt at his bedside. “Kiss me, Zidane,” he whispered softly. Zidane snorted derisively, in a way that said no. He refused to turn around. “Zidane...” Kuja repeated in a singsong voice. “Shut up,” was the snappy response. “Where are your manners, little one? Look at me when I’m talking to you,” the silver haired man said, laughter in every syllable. Suddenly Zidane turned and yelled. “Bite me!!”
Kuja leaned away from him as he shouted, taken aback by the noise. For a second he returned the other boy’s look, then he narrowed his eyes in anger. “Are you tempting me?” he hissed, grabbing Zidane by the hair and pulling his head back. The younger boy winced, and a second later, Kuja’s lips were at his throat. He felt a nip of pain as Kuja pressed his teeth against his neck. He cried out and tried to pull himself free. Kuja released him, kissing the side of his neck softly where only a tiny red mark remained. Zidane pulled as far away as he could, glaring at the other man, who only laughed lightly.

“Now kiss me,” he commanded, stronger this time, impatient. Zidane refused to respond, only staring him in the eye, defiant. “After what I’ve done to you, a kiss is nothing,” the older man added teasingly. “And do remember that your friends’ lives are in my hands. Would you let them die... for a kiss?”

The blond squeezed his eyes shut and edged towards Kuja, who rolled his eyes at such resistance and took the initiative. Drawing out his every movement, he draped his fingers over Zidane’s neck, burying them in his hair, and pulling him closer. Tilting his head, he leaned in, caressing Zidane’s lips with his own. The other genome almost backed off instinctively, but forced himself to stay. The thin fingers were warm now, pressing invitingly at the nape of his neck and drawing him into the kiss.

Kuja slipped his tongue deftly between Zidane’s lips, tightening his hold when his partner tried to escape again. Once more, Zidane forced himself to lie still, trembling only slightly as another tongue touched his own. Kuja moaned against the kiss, closing his eyes and stroking Zidane’s hair soothingly. As he withdrew, he gazed at Zidane’s blank expression with a sort of nostalgia he couldn’t explain.

“Beautiful, my canary,” he whispered, romantically. He stroked the other genome’s cheek once more, but Zidane had closed his eyes again. He lifted himself with a sigh. He had half hoped Zidane would warm to him – so to speak – but no such luck. Resigned to the silence of his victim, he turned away. It was late, and he was tired, Zidane probably even more so. “If I untied you tonight, would you run?” he asked quietly.
“Don’t think I want to stay, do you?” Zidane muttered sarcastically.
“You won’t get anywhere, I was asking if you were stupid enough to try,” Kuja smirked back.
Zidane’s head snapped to face Kuja, his hair flicking behind him. He opened his mouth angrily but stopped, his eyes widening.
“...Changed your mind?” Kuja frowned. The other boy’s expression was making him nervous. “What? What is it?”
“K-Kuja..” Zidane stuttered.
“What?!” Kuja snapped.


“You... You’ve got a tail too?”