A Crumb of Comfort

Disclaimer: Apologies to both Square Enix and Nabisco, I am merely borrowing your creations for some playful abuse (and no personal gain), although I’m sure Nabisco made a profit off me, because I ate a lot of Oreos while writing this fic.

A pre-Dirge of Cerberus one-shot, featuring Weiss x Nero, and a package of Oreos.

The events in this story take place approximately 3 years before the events of Dirge of Cerberus, soon after the Tsviets are able to free themselves from Shinra’s control.

Warnings: contains minor spoilers for DoC (major multiplayer mode spoilers), graphic yaoi, and a bit of silliness

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Nero, the darkest of the Tsviets, had a secret. Well, not so much a secret, but rather a piece of information about himself that he chose not to share with his comrades. That particular confidence was that he loved Oreo cookies.

It was something that remained from his childhood when he was growing up in the Deepground facility, from a time before his darkness manifested itself fully and became too powerful to control, before he spent all his days restrained.

The cookies had come from one particular lab assistant who ranked quite lowly in the hierarchy of the scientific research wing of the facility. He was a large podgy man, with features as memorable as a lump of dough. For some reason he had taken a liking to the young dark-haired experimental subject, often giving Nero one of the sweet biscuits after particularly gruelling ‘assessment sessions.’

Nero hated those tests. He hated the way the electrodes felt on his skin which monitored his heart rate and other minute physiological changes as they challenged him mentally and physically. He didn’t understand; he was just a kid. Of course in Deepground, there never seemed to be any other children to play with, but he knew the life that he had couldn’t possibly be normal.

The biscuits helped. He had once snuck out of his sparsely furnished room at night into the office where the researchers had their desks. Before he was caught by security and returned to where they deemed he belonged, he spotted a framed photograph. The picture showed a happy family, picnicking under a bright blue sky. Two young boys were laughing as they ate cakes and cookies. Nero didn’t understand at the time, but he had felt a bit of comfort when he had looked at the picture.

The cookies he got from the fat lab assistant reminded him of that scene. They distracted him, it almost made him feel as if he closed his eyes as he ate one, it would be him laughing and playing under the sunshine when he opened them again. It never worked though; his crimson gaze was always met with the same industrial grey that seemed to permeate through everything.

Still, he got comfort from the Oreos, a feeling that survived through his childhood, when the scientist forced him to comply to their every whim, it survived through his teens, the worst of his time in Deepground, when he got so powerful that they bound his limbs and kept him locked away. The feeling survived up until this very day.

Although Nero now found it a bit silly and embarrassing that he could get comfort from a cookie, it didn’t stop him from liking them. It was his little indulgence. One thing he was certain of though was that the centre was definitely the best part. Nero liked to twist open the cookies, lifting the dark biscuit away, exposing the white interior. He liked to lick the cream away first, before eating the biscuits. He liked the way that the sweet filling melted in his mouth, the crystalline texture coating his tongue before he swallowed. Yes, the centre was definitely the best part.

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If Weiss had known about his little brother’s peculiar fixation, he would have been the first to disagree with him. Of course it was the dark crisp biscuits that were the best part of an Oreo. He found the centre too sweet for his taste, full of fats and sugar, he put up with it only because it usually got lost in the crunchy texture of the rest. He liked the way that the ridges of the biscuit felt against his lips, the hard jutting edges which gave way beneath his immaculate teeth.

Weiss couldn’t recall why he liked the cookies. He vaguely remembered having some in his youth, possibly a bribe of sorts offered up by the lowly scientists to help get him to comply with their tests. He just knew that for some reason there always seemed to be Oreos in the Deepground facility. The Emperor didn’t know who put them on the supply list, but they were always there, so he ate them. It was a habit that he indulged in private; he didn’t share this with the other Tsviets. He got enough grief from Azul and Rosso already with their pet name of “Dancing Queen” for him, he wasn’t about to add “Cookie Monster” to their arsenal.

Weiss leaned back in his throne as he popped another cookie into his mouth. He was feeling bored today and chewed slowly as he thought of various ways that he could alleviate this particular state of mind. For the first time since they overthrew Shinra Weiss found himself with some free time on his hands and he wasn’t quite sure what to do with himself.

He could pay a surprise inspection to the Deepground barracks and grace the lowly foot soldiers with their Emperor’s presence. Perhaps make an example of a few of them to keep them on their toes. That could however, prove to be more troublesome than entertaining, he preferred to maintain an air of mystery and legend around himself in regards to the lower ranks and was in the mood for something else anyway.

Weiss’s icy blue gaze turned to his twin gunswords, which rested within easy reach of his throne. The polished metal managed to retain a hard gleam of their own, which shone through the dull environment of Deepground and the surrounding mako haze from the reactor. It had been awhile since he had used them, felt their strength as an extension of his own.

The white haired Emperor smiled, the edges of his lips curving upwards slightly as his eyes narrowed. Yes, some training would be the perfect way to alleviate his boredom, but who should he spar against? Anyone below the level of Tsviet would be a complete waste of his time.

Shelke, perhaps? No, her fighting style was too predictable and with her shield she was no fun at all. Weiss seriously doubted that her combat skills alone would have been enough to elevate her to level of Tsviet.

Azul? He was too brutal, no finesse. If Weiss wanted to fight a tank, he could go beat up one of the dragonflies.

Rosso? She could definitely pose a decent challenge, with her blood lust and speed, but Weiss knew that Rosso hated to lose and even if it was just a practice match, she would be sure to take it out on the rest of Deepground and that was one mess he did not want to deal with.

There was however, one contender remaining who would be ideal, his own kin and darkest of the Tsviets, Nero the Sable.

Nero was a rather enigmatic fighter, his particular style very different from Weiss’s own. Weiss took pride in his own rapid and elegant form of swordsmanship, making each cut as beautiful as it was deadly.

The dark Tsviet, on the other hand, was not what one would describe as a beautiful fighter, but rather adopted a style which combined both stealth and efficiency. Nero could dispatch entire legions of enemies without them even knowing they had been targeted. He merely enveloped them within his dark oblivion and the resulting pain and anguish they experienced made short work of even the bravest fighter.

Allowing an enemy to see his face was an honour that Nero reserved only for the most worthy of opponents, and he was a sight to behold, with his mechanical wings and long dark hair. The way that he was restrained often led people to underestimate the warrior, but he was certainly not one to be toyed with.

Weiss smiled again, broader this time, Nero would be ideal. It was always a challenge to keep one step ahead of his younger brother as he drifted in and out of the shadows. He had never gotten much chance to spar with Nero before the Tsviets had taken matters into their own hands and liberated themselves from Shinra’s control since the scientists were too scared to allow the dark-haired warrior even a breath of freedom. Now that Weiss thought about it, he actually hadn’t seen much of his brother at all since they freed themselves either. This would be a perfect opportunity to catch up with each other. Weiss sat up and activated the intercom which connected him with the rest of Deepground.

“Seiger Weiss!” a tinny voice came through the speaker.

“Tell Nero I want to see him,” Weiss ordered and cut the connection before another proclamation of his victory could be uttered. He knew that Nero would arrive soon enough and settled into his throne once more. He glanced around the spartanly furnished room again and noticed the bag of cookies; best to get rid of those before the other arrived. Weiss took one last cookie before shoving the remaining into a concealed drawer built into the armrest of his throne, pushing the bag down on top of the miscellaneous tools and items so he could close it again. He leaned back, running the edge of the biscuit against his lips absentmindedly, as he thought about the upcoming fight.

Weiss felt a particular affinity towards his younger brother that did not extend to the rest of Deepground or even to the other Tsviets that were under his command. Perhaps it was because he knew about just what Nero had gone through. Even though Weiss had been kept in check with the virus and was often physically chained to his throne as well, Nero they had kept brutally locked and bound to a pillar, alone. Even though they had been kept in different parts of Deepground, Weiss always knew when his brother called out for him amidst the pain and anguish.

Perhaps it was because he knew just how much the younger man looked up to him and adored him and how Nero depended on him for assurance and comfort. Weiss wasn’t so cruel as to completely ignore the feelings of the other; in fact, his own feelings were quite similar.

They were not just brothers, but lovers as well. That was something that may have struck people in the world above their heads as odd, but in a place like Deepground, where conditions were designed to strip away all humanity, love was something even more important to cherish no matter what form it manifested itself in. Weiss wasn’t sure at exactly what point their love for each other had turned into a deeper desire, sometimes it just seemed like yesterday when he was trying to protect his quiet little brother from the harsh reality of the experimental facility. But Nero had grown up into a deadly force, a being that everyone feared to touch, except for his brother, and their love grew ever stronger as they supported and comforted each other, being able to get lost in the pleasure of each other was one of the only things that made existence tolerable.

Due to the restraints masking his face and his formal manner of speech, Nero often came across as cool and aloof to others, although Weiss knew him well enough to see right through him. Nero’s emotions were always betrayed by his eyes, one just had to take the time to look into those crimson depths.

What Weiss enjoyed most however, was the fact that he was so often the cause of the emotion that Nero felt. Whether it be Nero’s longing gazes from across the room or the sight of Nero completely becoming his as he pressed the younger man’s body beneath his own, causing the other to writhe and gasp in lust as he held him in a powerful embrace. Weiss felt another emotion besides the adrenalin of anticipation of the fight wash over him and he definitely liked it. It had been far too long since he had last held Nero in his arms.

While caught in his reminisces Weiss noticed a pool of darkness gathering before his throne. Although he kept the entrance to his throne room locked his brother was free to come and go as he pleased. It was funny how after so many years of being forcefully confined in that room Weiss now chose it as his personal retreat.

“You wished to see me brother?” Nero inquired as soon as he had risen from the darkness. Weiss smiled in return, he always found Nero’s accent quite charming.

“It’s been a long time since we’ve had a chance to test our strengths against each other, dear brother,” Weiss began, “I’ve been itching for an opportunity for us to duel.” In all honesty, Weiss’s body was itching for something else as well, but for some odd reason he liked to earn the privilege of taking what was freely given to him anyway.

As Weiss spoke he noticed something odd. Nero usually was always focused on him whenever he spoke however today the other man’s attention seemed not to be on him but directed to a point slightly to his right. He followed the direction of his brother’s gaze and found that it had come to rest at his right hand, in particular at what was in his right hand.

Weiss had completely forgotten about the uneaten Oreo cookie. Was it really this simple biscuit that had managed to distract the dark Tsviet? There was obviously something that Nero was keeping secret from him and that intrigued him greatly. These thoughts passed through his head in a split second, before he had even finished his first sentence and he resolved that he would find out exactly what was going on.

Nero bowed his head slightly as Weiss finished, “I will do my best to be a worthy opponent for you brother,” he responded.

Nero’s mechanical wings reached downwards to draw two heavy handguns from the holsters strapped to the sides of his legs. Part of a set of four, the guns were designed specially to work in tandem with his artificial limbs. Although Nero’s wings appeared spindly, they were capable of bearing a remarkable amount of force.

“But,” Weiss added, before his brother could disappear once more into the shadows and their game began, “Let’s make things slightly more interesting.”

Nero paused and turned to face his brother once more; he remained silent, waiting for Weiss to continue.

Weiss held out the Oreo cookie in front of him, “Winner of our little duel gets this cookie,” he said, adding “it’s the last one.” Weiss grinned evilly as he saw a flicker of emotion flash across his brother’s eyes. This was turning out to be an absolutely wonderful way of teasing him. Weiss knew there was still over half a bag left of the cookies, but it was not information he was about to share with Nero, not when he could provoke such delightful reactions from the other.

“Very well brother,” Nero replied, trying to keep an air of nonchalance about him, “If you insist on adding these little rules to our game, so be it.” This did not deter Weiss for one moment however; he could hear a note of tension in Nero’s voice that indicated that it was anything but all right with his younger brother.

Weiss placed the cookie on the armrest of his throne and grabbed his gunswords, mounted them on his back, “Come little one, let us begin!”

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Duels in Deepground were anything but easy. The one rule of the hidden research institute was that you had to be strong to survive. There were no dulled blades or rubber bullets involved in a fight here, only real weapons and real blood.

Nero had already melted into the shadows as Weiss strode into the centre of the throne room. Weiss had learnt that when fighting Nero it was best to stay away from dark corners with the other could easily mount surprise attacks.

As he assumed a relaxed fighting stance; Weiss pulled one sword from its sheath and assessed the situation. As expected Nero was no where to be seen, but Weiss was not Emperor of Deepground for his strength alone, his ability to analyse his opponents and predict their movements and attacks was one of his greatest assets.

The high vaulted ceilings of the throne room would definitely suit Nero’s fighting style very well and Weiss adjusted his stance slightly in anticipation of an aerial attack. A split second later, a slew of bullets rained down towards him from somewhere to his upper right but Weiss was able to deflect them easily with the blade of his weapon. Like Weiss himself, his weapons had been made of the purest materials and infused with mako, no amount of bullets would be able to shatter the immaculate metal.

The warrior smirked, “Too predictable, little brother” he muttered under his breath.

The last bullets had hardly pinged off his broad sword when another onslaught of bullets was directed towards him, this time from ground level, somewhere off to his left. Weiss swiftly drew his other sword to block the new assault. Weiss cast his gold and blue eyes across the room at where the bullets had come from but he could see nothing beyond shadows. The white haired warrior quickly considered the situation. There could be two explanations for the rapid second attack. Either Nero was passing through his shadow realm to shift from one place to another or he had duplicated himself.

Weiss smiled to himself, either option would not be particularly hard for him to deal with. He half turned and stepped back as more bullets rained down on him, blocking them easily. The attacks came quicker now, alternating their point of origin more and more frequently. The Emperor felt the first prickles of sweat starting to rise on his body as he turned and shifted his lithe form faster and faster to block his younger brother’s attacks.

This was all well and good, but frankly Weiss was starting to get bored. Usually by now Nero had altered his strategy seeing how this sort of attack was never going to result in anything more than a stalemate between the two brothers. Nero would surely run out of bullets before Weiss succumbed to fatigue.

Instead of merely blocking the next barrage of bullets, Weiss shot back with his own weapons this time, the powerful rifle barrels sending heavy calibre single shots back towards the source of the attacks.

Bullets were never particularly effective against Nero, as long as the dark Tsviet was quick, his darkness could absorb the shots. The purpose of them was not to score a hit, but to slow him down enough so that Weiss could pinpoint his opponent’s location.

While the siblings were quite evenly matched when fighting at a distance; Nero’s weakness was close combat and getting it to that point was exactly the strategy Weiss was planning to apply to win this fight. Weiss grinned again as the torrent of bullets eased a bit, they still rained down from a variety of locations, but the Emperor knew it would not be long before he would be able to determine just where his little brother was.

Weiss manoeuvred his way out of the line of another assault; turning his hips sharply and using his momentum to catch the steam of bullets along the surface of his blades and fling them back towards their source. By this time Weiss had analyzed the pattern of attack and anticipated where the next one would come from. Really, Nero was making this far too easy from him.

Weiss grinned once more and stepped backwards, raising his swords to fire at the point where he was sure the next barrage was going to come for, only to be overcome by a strange sensation just as he was about to squeeze the triggers. More specifically, a strange sensation around his right leg. He jerked his head downwards, previous target forgotten as he watched the darkness envelop his leg and creep across his body, spreading from a dark smudge on the rough metal floor.

All Weiss could think of for a moment was that his little brother was incredibly clever. Nero had hidden in plain sight a patch of his own darkness and had expertly manipulated Weiss into stepping onto that very spot. While Weiss would have been sure to notice the darkness appearing around him suddenly, having it lie in wait out in the open where it wasn’t expected was ingenious.

He could feel the darkness sucking at his body; the murky tendrils had completely engulfed his right leg and was currently spreading down his left leg and wrapping their way around his waist, slowly immobilizing him. Weiss allowed himself a small smirk, any other fighter would have been absorbed within a second but not him; Nero always commented on how Weiss was hard to swallow, due to their opposing body compositions.

Weiss shifted a little, as much as he could, testing the strength of the darkness that was wrapping itself around him like a straightjacket. Idly he wondered if this was how Nero felt when he was bound within his Deepground uniform, when Shinra had immobilized him against that hateful pillar.

Before long he heard footsteps behind him, and the white haired man craned his neck around as much as he could to glimpse his brother approaching, guns still drawn and at the ready, waiting to see if Weiss would try anything.

Weiss followed with his eyes as Nero circled him, the darkness still creeping higher up his torso, starting to wrap around his shoulders and spread down his arms. Nero paused behind him and wrapped his metal wings around Weiss’s shoulders, drawing the two together back to front in a cold embrace.

“Do you concede Nii-san?” Nero leaned forward to whisper into his brother’s ear, his breath panting slightly from the exertion it had taken to corner and contain Weiss.

Weiss finally broke his silence with a laugh; a deep rich laugh that filled the room. Startled, Nero released his wings from his brother’s shoulders and took a step backwards. That was just what Weiss was waiting for.

“Never,” he hissed as he flicked his wrist backwards, just enough mobility left to impale the sharp tip of his sword through Nero’s gut.

Except that it wasn’t actually Nero, but a very convincing clone, one which was much higher quality than Weiss had ever seen before. He was sure that a lesser warrior than he would have been easily fooled. The form dissolved around the blade of his sword and merged with the darkness that still ebbed around him, but its grip was weakened now and Weiss was able to break free from the constraining hold, his own power practically glowing around him as it dissipated the darkness.

The white haired Emperor stretched his muscles out, prompting circulation to return to his limbs as he scanned the throne room once more. Nero almost had him that time, but remembering the feeling of Nero’s clone pressed up against him, whispering in his ear made Weiss determined to finish this quickly and to reap the rewards which awaited his victory.

The onus was on him to find Nero now; he knew that his brother would be lying low after exerting that much effort. Weiss brought his swords to their standard ready position again, the left one stretched ahead of him, the right hand sword poised behind him, half closing his eyes and breathing deeply, in through his nose releasing the breath slowly from his mouth, calming his heartbeat so that he could focus once again.

Weiss began to move, slowly at first, but gaining momentum as he followed no real clue besides base instinct; heading back towards where they had begun; the Emperor’s throne.

He leapt to the top of the throne, landing lightly on the wolf that towered over it, bringing his swords down sharply, intending to trap Nero but his blades were met only with the swirls of darkness that signalled an abrupt quitting of the location for the younger man.

Weiss growled in frustration. Nero had been there but had managed to slip through his fingers once again. The Immaculate Emperor leapt gracefully from the wolf motif that crowded his throne, stowing his gunswords back within their sheaths behind his back as he did so. He made his way once more to the centre of the room with determined strides. This cat and mouse game called for drastic measures.

Perhaps if he wasn’t able to find his little brother, he would be able to goad him into showing himself.

“Neeeerrrrrrooooooooooooo!” Weiss called out in a sultry voice, drawing the name out to a point where he could hear it echoing off the vaulted ceiling before he had finished, “Come play with your Nii-san. Don’t you know, the sooner our game is finished; the sooner I get to FUCK YOU!” the last words raw and laden with lust.

Weiss laughed as he heard a flurry of activity arise from some point above him, turning his head upwards just in time to see Nero fall rather ungracefully from where he had concealed himself, but the dark Tsviet managed to right himself in mid air and land in a crouch in front of Weiss.

Nero stood up slowly, saying nothing, but stared back intently at his older brother. He had released his arms from their bindings, to give him better control of the darkness. Seeing that his older brother had abandoned his weapons, Nero too returned his guns to the holsters strapped to the sides of his legs.

Weiss stretched out a hand to the other, palm up as he curled his fingers upwards, beckoning his brother to him. Nero remained motionless but tilted his head slightly, indicating to a point somewhere behind Weiss as the emperor heard two soft thuds. Weiss turned his head to see that two more clones of Nero had manifested themselves behind him.

Turning back to the original, he saw that Nero was now hovering about a foot off the ground, wings outstretched, the blades on the tips glistening ominously in the mako haze as the darkness swirled even more thickly around his body than before.

Weiss narrowed his eyes, with rapid movement and the darkness it would be difficult to tell which was real. The Emperor debated his options, he too had the ability to make copies of himself, but where was the challenge in that? Three to one in hand to hand combat were odds that he could deal with, he just had to be careful not to get carried away, least he actually harm the real Nero.

The first attack came quickly; Nero spinning rapidly, wings outstretched, the sharp blades hell bent on gouging flesh. As much as Nero loved him, Weiss knew the dark Tsviet would not hold back, because that was Weiss’s will.

The white haired man stepped nimbly out of reach of the whirling blades, moving so quickly that he appeared to skim across the ground. The first attack evaded, Nero launched immediately into another; Weiss always wondered how Nero managed to avoid getting dizzy when he did this sort of manoeuvre.

This time Weiss did not remove himself completely from the radius of attack, but merely sidestepped neatly at the appropriate moment as he shot out a powerful hand to grab hold of one of Nero’s wings as he span past. The younger man came to an abrupt halt as he strained against the strength of his brother’s grip, the momentum that he had gained pulling the pair another half turn around, but not enough to free himself from Weiss’s hold.

Weiss kept at least one hand on Nero at all times as he hauled the smaller man to a standing position in front of him, controlling the situation, not giving the younger man a chance to break free as his hand moved along the shiny metal. Weiss paused for a moment, snapping around quickly, just in time to deliver a powerful thrust kick into the gut of another attacking Nero, knocking him back across the room in a winded lump.

Turning back to the first, he raised his arm to parry a blow from the left wing, the right being still held immobile. As he held onto the left wing, he transferred his grip from the right wing to Nero’s arm. It felt odd under his hand, cold for some reason, not the familiar warmth that he normally felt from his brother, it must be a clone. That was good; he could be as rough with it as he wanted to.

He twisted the arm around Nero’s back, forcing the smaller man to bend forwards as he brought his knee up to meet the clone’s face, resulting in the form beneath him dissolving into the darkness from which it was made. One down, two to go.

Even before the shape beneath him had completely lost its substance Nero came at him again, the hands on his wings closed tight into the shape of daggers as he reached out with them, aiming to mar the perfect flesh of his elder brother.

Weiss was too quick however for such a straightforward attack, moving backwards out of reach once more, but the remaining Nero was there to meet him. His wing shot forward, grazing Weiss’s hair as the Emperor’s head barely vacated the point of attack in time.

Countering, Weiss caught Nero by the neck with his left hand, his brother slightly off balance after the failed attack. Cold again, another clone. He drove his right hand forward, striking the unprotected solar plexus with the heel of his palm with enough force to cause this clone to dissolve into mist as well. That just left the actual Nero to deal with as he snapped around once more.

Before the dark haired man could escape again Weiss was on him. The Emperor moved so quickly that it seemed that he simply popped into existence behind Nero. Weiss pressed close to the other in a kind of bear hug, holding Nero slightly off the ground, so that only the tips of his toes could scrape the floor. Nero’s wings were rendered useless pressed against Weiss’s bare chest as well as being contained by the emperor’s powerful arms. The rest of Nero was held at bay by the sharp edges of twin swords to his neck.

It was Weiss’s turn to whisper into the smaller man’s ear, “Do you concede dear brother?”

Nero said nothing in response but simply relaxed his body, giving in to Weiss’s dominance with a small sigh.

Weiss chuckled again, a sultry noise deep within his throat as he stretched his neck forward to run his tongue languidly along Nero’s ear. Their little duel had been more than enough to get his blood pumping and now that his prize was caught his thoughts turned to more primal urges. Surprisingly Nero didn’t react to Weiss’s lustful gesture; rather his head simply slumped to the side, pushed over by the force of Weiss’s lick.

The white haired man immediately stowed his weapons and loosened his grip on the other. Weiss quickly pressed his fingers up against Nero’s neck, his pulse was still there, steady and strong and his breaths were regular. There were no head injuries that Weiss could find after running his fingers through Nero’s dark locks, supporting his brother’s limp form in his arms as he checked him over for damage.

Satisfied that there was nothing seriously wrong physically, Weiss picked up Nero and carried his brother towards the throne, slightly disappointed that their play would have to wait. The younger man must have overexerted himself and the best thing to do at this point was to just let him sleep it off.

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Nero woke suddenly, his crimson eyes flying open with a start. He blushed slightly when he realized where he was, cradled on his brother’s lap, his head resting against Weiss’s shoulder. He wasn’t in any particular hurry to move, as far as the young man could tell his brother was still asleep, the white haired man’s breaths were slow and regular, his arms circled lightly around Nero’s waist.

Nero gave a little sigh and nuzzled his face against Weiss’s chest. He noticed that his head restraint had been removed; Weiss must have taken it off when he was unconscious. When they were younger they had often sat like this, on Weiss’s throne, not often saying much, but finding comfort in each other’s company. A comfort that was hard to come by in the place like Deepground.

They hadn’t done this in a long time however, and it was mostly due to his own actions, although it didn’t mean that he loved Weiss any less. He was still totally devoted to the man. Nero had wanted to become strong, someone who his brother could depend on, not just the little brother that needed his Nii-san to stick up for him whenever anything bad happened.

The scientists in Deepground always stared at him like he was some freak of nature, commenting on the “failed experiment,” speculating behind his back why he had turned out so differently from his brother, who was the epitome of success in the research facility. Weiss never once said that to him though, Weiss accepted him for who he was and loved him just the same. Nero just wanted desperately to be able to repay that kindness in any possible way. He wanted to be someone worthy of standing at the Emperor’s side as both his kin and lover.

He tried to make himself useful, taking care of the daily runnings of Deepground, training himself to become stronger, although as he idly thought back on his most recent fight, it obviously wasn’t enough. He still had a long way to go though it seemed, having been thoroughly outdone by his older brother. It wasn’t so bad that he had lost since pretty much no one won a fight against Weiss, but he was embarrassed that he had passed out afterwards. Nero sighed again and decided that it would just be best to take advantage of the current situation as long as he could as he rubbed his cheek gently against the smooth flesh of Weiss’s chest. Gods he wanted this man, wanted to be captured by strong arms and to let passion and lust melt away the rest of the world. At least Weiss was asleep and couldn’t see how easily Nero was turning back into that needy little kid as he snuggled in closer to his brother.

Just as the dark Tsviet was about to drift off to sleep again his attention was caught by something that was resting on the arm of the throne.

the cookie

Nero breathed in sharply, he wanted it, but he would never dare take something from Weiss without his permission. It was suppose to be the winner of their fight who got the cookie, and he had lost spectacularly. The small man shifted slightly in his brother’s lap, trying to get the sweet temptation out of his line of sight.

“Uncomfortable little one?” Weiss asked Nero, surprising the younger man. Nero brought his head up at the question, his red eyes connecting with Weiss’s own blue and golden ones as he shook his head slightly.

He wondered how long Weiss had actually been awake, had he been aware of just how much cuddling Nero had done? The dark Tsviet felt the colour rising in his cheeks as his sibling scrutinized him.

Nero shifted again, carefully extracting himself from his brother’s lap, part of him longing to just stay; the masochist in him not allowing himself the comfort of his brother’s touch when he hadn’t proved himself.

Just as was about to sink into his darkness again, Weiss spoke once more, “Aren’t you forgetting something?”

The dark haired man turned back to face his brother, who was holding the out the cookie towards him.

Nero paused. He wasn’t sure what he should do. Was his brother testing him again? Would he be showing weakness to accept the cookie?

“But,” he said at last, “I lost.”

“Which means I won,” Weiss grinned with a gleam in his eye. “So I get to decide what to do with it.” The white-haired man lowered his voice again and practically purred, “and I want you to come over here and get it.”

Still cautious, unsure as to Weiss’s actual intent, Nero approached the throne once more and reached out with one of his wings to take the biscuit from his brother’s fingers.

“Ah ah!” Weiss chided, “No hands allowed, or wings.” He then placed the Oreo half in his mouth, holding it there for Nero to take.

Nero blushed slightly as he leaned forwards gingerly to pluck the cookie from Weiss’s mouth with his own. His face hovered mere centimetres from his brother’s; breath mixing between them, their hair tickling each other’s foreheads. Nero’s pale blue lips brushed against the dark biscuit and he opened his mouth slightly, gripping just the ridges on the edge of the cookie with his teeth and tugging slightly.

Weiss however, did not seem quite prepared to relinquish it as Nero found his efforts met with a degree of resistance. Nero raised his eyes to look into his brother’s blue orbs, as Weiss’s hands reached forwards to ghost across Nero’s hips, gently guiding his younger brother onto his lap once more.

Nero tugged again, with a bit more force this time, but still Weiss did not release his grip. Nero was about to give up as he loosened his own hold on the cookie but at that moment his brother suddenly tightened his arms around him, crushing their bodies together as Nero felt the cookie thrust into his mouth, followed closely by Weiss’s invading tongue, firm lips pressed hard against his own.

Weiss withdrew, letting his tongue caress the younger man’s lips, licking away any remaining crumbs as the dark Tsviet held the sweet reward in his mouth.

A rather goofy expression found its way onto Nero’s face as he slowly munched on the cookie, savouring the taste of it as Weiss held him close and occasionally nuzzled his younger brother, leaving tender kisses in his wake, as he also let his hands roam gently across Nero’s lithe body.

As Nero swallowed, Weiss’s fingers found their way under the smaller man’s chin and tipped his face towards his own, his immaculate lips grazing Nero’s own. “How about a taste for me?” he murmured, before capturing the pale lips with his own once more.

Nero moaned slightly, allowing Weiss’s tongue to enter his mouth again and feeling himself slowly get lost in the older man’s ministrations as Weiss’s powerful muscle gently explored his moist cavern while his hands caressed the smaller form with greater urgency than before. Maybe his brother had been serious when he had said he wanted to fuck him during their battle.

Nero wrapped his own arms around Weiss’s neck as he returned the kiss, pushing back at Weiss’s tongue with his own, making sure that his brother got a good taste of him. He let his own hands get lost in luxurious white locks, he never used his hands much and to have them experience such a feeling of silky softness was always a treat. Gods, it had been ages since they had done anything like this and he missed this feeling so much. But why had it been so long?

With a gasp Nero remembered and pushed backwards, breaking the connection of their lips and leaving his brother with a rather perplexed expression on his face.

“Don’t you want me?” Weiss asked quietly, releasing Nero as he was still being held at arm’s length by the younger man.

Nero averted his eyes, feeling uncomfortable under Weiss’s intense stare. “I do…,” he said slowly; gods he wanted him more than anything, he wanted Weiss to take him, to whisper his name in his ear as pounded into him, to tell him he loved him, his voice raw with lust and need. Nero’s breath hitched as he spoke, laden with emotion, “It’s just that… I don’t deserve you.” There, he had said it.

Weiss reached out his hand to gently turn the dark-haired man’s face towards his again, forcing Nero to look into his eyes. “How did you get a ridiculous idea like that into your head?” all traces of the usual teasing tone that he used with his little brother gone from his voice.

“I…” Nero’s voice caught in his throat as he tried to expresses his thoughts, “I wasn’t able to help us escape from Restrictor and Shinra at all. Everyone took part, Shelke, Rosso, even Azul, but not me. I was useless. You deserve someone better by your side.”

“Oh Nero,” Weiss drew his brother against him once more, wrapping his strong arms around the smaller man’s body in a tender hug. “That’s not true, after all, who was it that made short work of all the remaining Shinra guards and those that were foolish enough to still stand against us after Restrictor had been dealt with?”

Nero remembered that day vividly, he had been chained to that awful pillar as usual, his voice hoarse from screams. But finally his brother had come, released his bonds and gathered him into his arms once more. They were finally free, only a few annoyances had remained, all of which soon found themselves in oblivion, their death screams providing a beautiful melody as backdrop to the Tsviets victory.

“I guess so,” Nero replied, still unconvinced.

“It wasn’t your fault that those awful people kept you under particularly strong lock and key. If anything it just goes to prove just how powerful you are, they were that scared of you.” Weiss ruffled Nero’s hair, his big hand caressing Nero’s face warmly.

Nero sighed again, but contently this time, as he nuzzled against his brother’s hand. Weiss continued, “Is that why you’ve been avoiding me?”

“I didn’t think you noticed,” Nero said quietly.

“That just means we need to make up for lost time now,” Weiss smiled again, the teasing tone back in his voice as his hands started roaming across Nero’s body once more.

There was no hesitation on his part this time as Nero surged forward to meet the immaculate lips with his own, his body trembling from anticipation. Their kiss deepened, growing in urgency and need as their tongues delved deep into each other’s mouths. The Sable man pushed himself against his brother’s body, feeling the strong muscles of Weiss’s bare chest ripple beneath him as the heat of passion built up within him.

Weiss’s hands were around his back, pulling down the zipper that held his uniform shut, determined to remove the constricting clothing from the younger man’s body, only to be met with the rather complicated problem of Nero’s wings, which by this time had started drooping and were digging their sharp edges into his legs.

It was the Emperor who broke their heated embrace this time, sitting up straighter and pulling Nero up in front of him, grabbing the outermost finger of Nero’s wing and pulling it outwards away from the younger man’s body. “You can never control these things properly when you get distracted like this. Would you like to take them off?”

Nero nodded. Although they were like an extra pair of limbs to him now, when he got lost in passion the wings seemed to take on a primal urge of their own, and bits of metal with sharp points on the end was the last thing that was needed waving around.

Although Nero tried to make himself as independent as possible, one thing that he was unable to do on his own was to remove his wings. They connected just at the distal edge of his scapula, the metal joints anchored deep within the bone, the electronics snaking over the edge of the bone to connect to the nerves that controlled his arms. When the wings were first forced upon him, he could barely make them move, but eventually gained control, mostly out of necessity rather than choice since the scientists also had bound his arms, rendering them useless.

Nero turned around on Weiss’s lap, presenting his back to his brother as Weiss leaned over to grab the necessary tools from the drawer that was built into his throne. Weiss popped the matte silver discs that covered the mechanisms off and set to work, breaking the physical and electronic connections, taking care not to damage the mako driven hydraulics. He eventually lifted first the right wing, then the left, off of Nero’s back and placing them on the ground next to the throne.

Nero felt much lighter with the wings off, although he did sometimes go to use them absently without remembering that they weren’t there, but in other ways it was still a relief to be rid of them. As he started to turn back to face his brother once more, something caught his eye.

“Weiss!” Nero exclaimed in an accusatory tone, his gaze locked on the familiar blue and white packaging of the Oreo cookies lying in the open drawer that the white haired man had hidden earlier. “You said that cookie was the last one!”

Weiss laughed in response, “But it was so much more fun to tease you with it.” He pulled the package of cookies from the drawer and placed them next to the throne as well.

Nero stuck his tongue out at his brother as he leaned down to grab the package, but as he bent forwards, he felt the zipper that held his uniform shut travel downwards exposing a thin line of pale skin in its wake.

Before he could reach the bag, he was hauled upwards again, Weiss catching the sensitive skin of his neck freshly exposed by unzipping the uniform between his teeth; biting and sucking, eliciting a deep moan from Nero.

Weiss whispered into Nero’s ear when he finally released the bruised flesh, “Really little one, letting yourself get distracted by a cookie? I’m not near done playing with you yet.”

Nero turned towards his lover once more, seeing those blue eyes filled with lust and need, and brought his own mouth to Weiss’s ear, sucking gently on his earlobe, nipping and teasing with his tongue, “Never brother,” he breathed letting his own mouth travel along the other’s neck.

Nero adjusting himself to straddle his brother as Weiss drove his hips upwards, grinding into Nero’s body. The smaller man groaned at the contact, his own arousal stiffening even more with the friction.

As their lips came together and broke apart, the immaculate one went to work on his lover’s clothing, unbuckling the straps that restrained his body. He knew that the outfit had been designed to constrain Nero’s power but he couldn’t help but find it terribly kinky, he knew that Nero enjoyed bondage and Weiss was more than happy to be the one that provided it. There would be none of that sort of play this time however; they had been apart for too long to manage anything other than deep driving want for each other’s passion and love.

The buckles undone, Nero pushed back, letting his hands trail seductively across Weiss’s already bare chest as his brother gripped the skin tight fabric of the dark Tsviet’s uniform and peeled off his torso and arms, exposing the dark markings that graced the younger man’s body.

Weiss purred his approval as he brought his fingers up to the smaller man’s chest to trace the dark lines that ran along his body. Soon the fingers were replaced with his tongue as he lapped at the pale flesh, sucking and biting, taking extra care to catch the rosy nubs of Nero’s nipples between his teeth, drawing the most delightful noises from the younger man.

While his tongue was busy, Weiss’s hands were not idle either, delving once more beneath Nero’s uniform to massage the round orbs of his pert ass, causing Nero to lean forwards even more to give him better access, grinding their erections together.

The dark haired man moaned under his brother’s ministrations, his back arching in pleasure from the double assault on his body as Weiss slipped the tight fabric down past his narrow hips. Nero reached downwards himself, undoing the black slash that served as a belt for Weiss’s trousers and running his hands across the ever growing lump, tracing its outline beneath the taunt fabric.

Weiss stood suddenly, depositing his lover on his feet in front of him, as he grabbed the rest of the offending fabric and pulled it down to Nero’s calves with a growl, exposing his younger lover before him. Nero took his cue and slipped off his boots and stepped out of the remnants of his uniform as he too reached forward and removed Weiss’s trousers from his body, running his small hands across the immaculate man’s hips and thighs as he did so.

Soon both men were nude and Weiss grabbed his brother once more, pressing their bodies together in another heated embrace, moaning as their erections collided, Nero standing on his tiptoes to facilitate matters. Weiss chuckled a bit at this and received a dark scowl from Nero in return, it wasn’t his fault that his older brother towered a good six inches over him.

“Sorry little one,” Weiss laughed, not helping matters any as he picked Nero up and sat him on his throne, kneeling in front of him. “Please accept this as my apology,” he said as he held out one of the Oreos for Nero.

Nero took the cookie and decided this would be a perfect opportunity to get back a bit at his brother. The dark haired man leaned back slightly in a seductive manner and twisted the cookie apart, reaching out his tongue and dragging it languidly across the white creamy surface, moaning slightly as he did so, gazing at his brother with half closed lustful eyes.

Weiss could feel his body temperature rising as he watched Nero’s little show, wanting desperately for that tongue to be put to other uses. Nero smiled as he watched the reaction he was getting out of his lover, scrapping the surface of the dark biscuit clean with rapid flicks of his tongue.

Weiss leaned forward and caught Nero’s mouth in his once more, pushing the younger man back further until he was almost horizontal in the chair. He grabbed one of the dark biscuits from his brother as he pulled back and crushed the cookie in his hand, letting the crumbs trickle onto Nero’s bare chest, the dark pieces getting lost against Nero’s dark markings.

Weiss ran his tongue across Nero’s body, lapping up the biscuits pieces as he went along, travelling lower and lower until he was almost at Nero’s erection but pulling away before he actually touched the throbbing shaft.

Nero made a small sound of frustration at the pause, but Weiss had only stopped to retrieve more of the cookies from the package, putting them within easy reach for later use. Nero reached out with a slender leg, hooking it around the older man’s shoulder, drawing his lover towards him once more. Weiss smirked and went along with the dark haired man’s urges, taking the erect shaft in hand and giving it a tight squeeze.

A low moan of pleasure found its way out of Nero’s throat as Weiss took the head into his mouth, sucking gently, letting his tongue flick across the tip as he swallowed more of the needy length, familiar with all the motions that were guaranteed to drive the younger man wild.

The Sable Tsviet was gasping now, bucking his hips upwards, desperate to find release. Weiss massaged Nero’s balls as he drove his head up and down along the length, bringing the younger man closer and closer to the point of no return.

“Ahhh.. ahhhhh!” Nero panted, “I’m cumming” he screamed just before the orgasm crashed over him sending pleasure throughout his body from the tips of his fingers to his toes. Weiss drank him all up, licking his cock clean before gathering Nero into a tender kiss, letting his younger brother taste himself on his tongue.

Nero sighed contently, gazing at the immaculate man with half-closed crimson eyes, framed by delicate eyelashes, dark with emotion. Weiss stood up again, pulling Nero up into a half sitting position as he kneeled on the edge of the throne himself, putting his cock at face level with his brother, rubbing the silken head against Nero’s soft cheek.

Weiss reached down and grabbed one of the cookies, twisting it open and dragging his fingers through the cream, coating them with the sweet filling. He ran one finger across Nero’s lips, leaving traces of the cream in its wake, while Nero rapidly followed with his tongue as his brother moved his fingers to his own cock, smearing the sweetness across it.

Nero giggled as he reached out to grasp the solid length, holding the base between his hands as if he was gripping a candy bar. He started with soft little licks, travelling the length of the shaft, lapping up the sugary treat. He ran his tongue from the base to the head as he started pumping rhythmically with his hands, milking precum from his lover, as he lapped up the two creams, the sweetness and saltiness creating a unique flavour on his tongue.

It was the white haired man’s turn to moan as he gripped the back of the throne and eased his knees off the seat giving Nero more room to play; steadying himself so that he could thoroughly enjoy the feeling of the younger man’s skilful tongue playing along his length. As Nero sucked he shifted his position from sitting to balancing on his hands and knees as Weiss thrust in and out of his mouth.

The immaculate man reached down with his hands as he started to play with his lover’s ass, massaging the smooth skin, spreading his cheeks to expose the puckered entrance. He pulled out of Nero’s mouth with a gasp; he was getting too close and didn’t want it all to be over so quickly.

He lifted the smaller man off the throne, and settled into it himself once more, gathering Nero once again onto his lap, running his strong hands along the smaller form, as he pushed Nero’s legs apart, revelling in the view. Unbidden, Nero took one of Weiss’s hands in his own, drawing his brother’s strong fingers into his mouth, sucking deeply on them until they were well coated with slick saliva.

Weiss withdrew his fingers and replaced them with another Oreo as his slicked fingers worked their way downwards to press against Nero’s entrance, the first finger easing in slowly, soon followed by another, preparing the tight ass for the inevitable invasion.

Nero gasped as Weiss found his sensitive spot with his probing fingers, sending a wave of passion through the younger man’s body. The dark-haired Tsviet wrapped his arms around his lover’s neck as he tried to push himself down on the teasing fingers, longing for more.

“Ahh, Brot..” Nero was unable to finish as Weiss caressed that sweet spot again.

“Yes?” The white haired man purred as he continued to tease with his expert digits, preparing the tight hole for what was to come.

“Fill… me…” the younger man managed to pant out between gasps, running his teeth across Weiss’s neck, his urgency leaving angry red marks on the immaculate skin.

The white haired man withdrew his fingers, holding the base of his cock steady as smaller man slowly lowered himself onto the thick shaft until he was buried to the hilt. Nero threw his head back, eyes wide, panting with the effort of taking the length into his body, but never feeling as complete as when it was there.

After a few agonizing moments of stillness to allow himself to adjust, equally slowly he started to pull himself off of it again until only the head remained inside of him, and then ground himself down again.

It was like dying a sweet slow death to Weiss. He gripped the armrests of the throne until his knuckles were white, knowing that as soon he let go he was going to grab Nero and totally ravage him.

“Nero,” he whispered, his voice strained, watching as the slight man rode his cock, head tossed to the side, looking every inch a fallen angel with those smouldering crimson eyes and the mako glow framing his pale and dark body as the darkness whipped around him in a frenzy.

It was Nero’s turn to pop a cookie into Weiss’s mouth, who made short work of it in his frustration, holding off until he couldn’t take it anymore. The white-haired warrior grabbed Nero’s hips and started guiding the younger man along his aching member, drawing out all sorts of seductive sounds from his brother’s lips.

Nero felt like he was on fire, the passion burning through him as Weiss slammed him down on his cock again and again, driving his own hips upwards to meet Nero’s lithe body as it ground down on him. Nero lost all sense of everything besides the passion that he felt right at that moment, never wanting the feeling to end, but his body was screaming for release once more. He knew that it would only ever be his brother that could make him feel this alive, this loved, gods he would do anything for this man.

“mmmmm, Nii-san, I love you” Nero managed to choke out as his lover wrapped a strong hand around his cock, jerking it off in time with the solid thrusts that were ravaging the smaller man’s body. Nero practically tore at the luxurious white hair in his grasp, taking in the whole view of his beautiful brother, from the slight sheen of sweat that covered his perfect body to the half closed icy blue eyes, lost in their own world of need and passion.

“I love you too, dear brother” Weiss moaned huskily as he moved forwards to capture Nero’s dark lips beneath his own once more. It was more than Nero could bear as he felt himself losing it completely. His vision turned white and he could no longer hear anything besides the pounding of his heart as every muscle in his body tensed and then relaxed as his orgasm shot hot reams of sticky cum across their bodies, panting with the effort, realizing that the scream he had heard on the edge of his consciousness has been his own.

Weiss groaned in response, the feeling of Nero contracting around him as he came was more than enough to put him over the edge as well, as his own orgasm coating Nero’s inner walls.

The two brothers collapsed against each other, held upwards only by the fact that they were leaning in opposite directions. When he had regained his strength slightly, Weiss raised his head towards the other, placing a chaste kiss upon the bruised lips.

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The two brothers remained cuddled on the emperor’s throne, their clothing still discarded but from somewhere Weiss had managed to find a blanket that they wrapped themselves in after they had cleaned themselves up to a degree.

The dark-haired man leaned back against his brother’s wide chest as Weiss pulled him slightly closer, wrapping the blanket more securely around the pair.

Nero rested his head against Weiss’s shoulder and spoke suddenly breaking the comfortable silence that had descended upon them, “You know, I’m glad I lost that fight.”

Weiss chuckled a bit and nuzzled his brother once more, “Why do you say that little one? You would have gotten the cookie either way.”

“Yes, but I would have probably just taken the cookie and left, and as you proved so well, it’s so much better to share.” Nero grinned wickedly up at his brother. Weiss laughed a bit at this and kissed his brother’s forehead once more. It didn’t matter that they were trapped in this underground facility anymore; all that mattered was that they had their freedom and they had each other.

Nero cast his eyes lazily around the throne room, letting his gaze travel across their discarded clothing and weapons, his wings, and finally resting on that blue and white bag, now emptied of its contents. If there was one thing that Nero knew for sure, it was that he was never going to look at an Oreo cookie the same way again.

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[A/N] I hope that you’ve enjoyed this Weiss and Nero one shot. This is my first fic with this pairing, so comments and feedback are always welcome. Please leave a review, and you can also contact me at aquila_blue_00@hotmail.com if you have any questions/additional comments.

I came up with the concept due to the fact that this pairing is affectionately known as “Oreo” to its fans. It’s a bit silly in places and it took me absolutely ages to write, but if I’ve done a good job, you won’t look at an Oreo in the same way again either ;)

If you haven’t had a chance to read the script and/or see the videos for the Japanese multiplayer mode, I highly recommend doing so; you get to find out so much more about the Tsviet’s backstory.

Thank you MUCHLY to lunatic_vn and Gabreilla for reading over the fic and helping me fix a couple of things up before publication and a big MUAH to everyone in our little Oreo club (you know who you are).