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My Canary... Mine.	By : PrinceKuja Category: Final Fantasy Games > Final Fantasy IX Views: 3073 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own Final Fantasy IX, nor any of the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
- 7
- 8
[[Again, thank you so much for the reviews. Chapters might be few and far between while my dissertation takes precedence, but I've started roleplaying Kuja once more and it's become easier to get into the flow of writing like him again. So I hope the OoC moments are few and far between!]]

Zidane’s hand was warm, his touch light, and as his fingers drew lightly across the curve of Kuja’s hip, Kuja had to remind himself that he was supposed to be in control here. Imitating Zidane’s motions, he lifted a hand to stroke down Zidane’s side.
“This isn’t to say that I forgive you for anything,” the blond murmured.
“I don’t care about forgiveness.”
“And I still prefer women.”
“Hardly an obstacle when you’re with me, canary.”
Zidane rolled his eyes with a half-smile, but, it was almost true. He wouldn’t confess it, but the offer Kuja had made was tempting. No strings attached, and complete secrecy. He was fairly innocent when it came to physical activity anyway... another thing he wouldn’t be admitting... and Kuja attracted him in a way that disturbed him. The man was his enemy, which should have made him frightening but instead made him forbidden. They were threats to each other, but... Zidane’s taste for adventure and danger had never subsided. And if Kuja was telling the truth about letting him set the rules, was this really an opportunity he wanted to turn down?
He set his palm flat on Kuja’s chest, faintly feeling his heartbeat. A second later, Kuja’s fingertips traced up to his chest, over his own pulse. He grinned, and saw the other man smile teasingly, daring him to do more.
Maybe it was just the fact that something so weird was happening, or maybe it was the way Kuja had smiled just then, but Zidane felt almost like they had a kind of link.
Perhaps it was the pace at which the scene was unfolding, perhaps it was the way they were looking at each other, but Kuja felt, for a moment, as if they were reflections of each other.
Zidane’s touch was more cautious, more restrained, and his smile was more open, genuine. Kuja’s touches lingered, hinted at possibilities, and his smile was full of ulterior motives and secrets.
He started to entertain the notion that Garland had not lied about their similarities. But Zidane was moving slowly, with such uncertainty, that Kuja couldn’t help becoming a little impatient. Infringing outside the boundaries of their agreement, he made a move that wasn’t an imitation, leaning over Zidane to kiss his neck, as his hand snaked down to his hip again.
“A-ah, Kuja, I’m still...”
Kuja shifted closer on the bed, his body touching Zidane’s. He heard the blond gasp, and moaned luxuriously against his neck, wanting to encourage him. “Touch me, Zidane,” he whispered, knowing there had to be something that could tempt the younger genome to swallow his fear and continue.
But he felt the upper hand swiftly taken from him when Zidane’s hand pressed low on his stomach and then firmly grasped his erection. Unexpected, to say the least. His lips parted against Zidane’s neck and he breathed in sharply, staying as still as stone before realising that this meant he could now return the gesture. Leaning back, he looked into Zidane’s eyes as his own hand drifted lower, grasping the younger man’s length with a more experienced and more confident grip. Both of them were gazing at each other through heavy lidded eyes now.
Kuja broke the rule again by being the first to move his hand, but as soon as he heard the moan it elicited, he knew he wouldn’t be receiving any complaints.
Zidane’s heart was beating so fast he didn’t think he could take it. He wanted this badly now, but he had no idea what he was doing. He settled for copying Kuja, drawing his fingers slowly upwards... and then he saw the way those eyes were looking at him. Kuja’s lashes flickered, his lips apart though he didn’t make a sound. It wasn’t an expression Zidane had ever expected to see, but... it was beautiful, so intense. And when Kuja’s eyes opened again, they were full of lust. It would have intimidated him before. Now he knew he needed to see more. He could make that happen, he could put that blissful smile on those lips.
He chose a pace and began to move, stroking back and forth. Those lustful eyes widened, then began to pick up the rhythm as well. Zidane shuddered at the touch of those skilful fingers, pushing his hips forward. They were so close on the bed that the only thing keeping them apart was Kuja’s hand – a fact the older genome quickly rectified. Drawing his hand away he rolled his hips against Zidane’s, their shafts now pressing up together with a delicious friction that made the younger boy speak breathlessly.
“Want more... I want more...”
Kuja tried not to show exactly how overjoyed he was at that, but he smiled and nodded once. Before he could speak, Zidane looked down and mumbled.
“I don’t know what I’m doing.” The blush on his cheeks suggested that this was a painful confession for him.
“Then I’ll be on top, if you like,” Kuja murmured, nestling against his neck and speaing lowly.
“I figured that’s what you had in mind anyway.”
Kuja half-shrugged. “I like it both ways... as if you hadn’t worked that one out.” Zidane smiled nervously. It probably was just like Kuja to want it however... whenever... but he couldn’t help hoping that this was special to the older man too, at least in some way.
His concerns must have shown on his face, because Kuja wore that look of tenderness again. It wasn’t bad, it just seemed so alien on the face of someone so cruel...
“I will be careful,” he said softly. “...No need to look so concerned. You are the one running the show, after all.”
- 7
- 8
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