Feather Flight: It Came to Me Unexpectedly (part 12)

An AU Kuja fic, shonen-ai, language

*****

notes:

Since it’s been a while, and it’s cruel to make anyone reread the old just to remember who’s who… I give you a quick encyclopedia of “stuff thus far”:

Kuja: a.k.a. Mr. Kuja, Masa, kitten - poor displaced ff9 villain trying to get by in a world in which he doesn’t really belong…

Laro: a.k.a Laro Nazer, Nazer-kai, Great Kai – skilled general, reluctant war hero, rescued Kuja and fell in love (he’s a little stupid like that).

Riquoi: a.k.a Duke Riquoi, walking-skeleton, ‘old man’, - most powerful man at court, possibly even more than the king.

Finlay: a.k.a Dean Finlay, ‘old battle axe’- Dean of the College of Science, only woman on the ruling council.

Ibat: a.k.a Everet Ibat, Ibat-kai, Kai – Laro’s friend and mentor, commander & chief of the human armies unless Laro returns…

Ing: a.k.a. Doctor Ing – famous doctor who runs a hospital by the coast, he seems to be friends with the Dean.

The Selwe – An insect army/alien race taking many forms (Drones, Diggers and Stingers being a few). Ruled by a Queen from her ship in space, they seek to enslave the world via Towers.

Towers – Strange monolithic structures placed at key points around the world that act as supports for a massive energy net that covers the world.

The Net – Held aloft by the Towers, the net seems capable of suppressing any sort of magical energy.

And now… on with the show.

*****

The rocky grotto was several degrees cooler than the scorching heat of the chasms above. Sunlight reflected off the tawny rocks beyond the cave indirect light aided by dozens of shaky beams from flashlights. Soldiers crouched low, taking no chances as they crept further into the darkness. They had tracked the insects into the convoluted passages, but now that they were away from daylight, sightings had become scarce. Ibat Kai ran his fingers through the layer of loose gravel, checking for tell tail traces of Selwe infestation.

“General…”

The almost sub-vocal hiss was more than enough. He crept forward carefully, noting that the mild grade to the wide passage would be ideal for his less surefooted enemies.

“Yes?”

“We found them, about a quarter mile further in. Scouts are checking for more… suitable entrances.”

“Anything near by?”

“No sir.”

The white-haired officer watched the man closely, gauging his confidence in the answer before shrugging whimsically. He stood up and stretched, popping joints in his back. “Well then, no need to go crawling around like our hard-shelled friends, hmm?”

“Yes Sir.”

Relief was palatable as the troops settled back on their heels, still alert but not as paranoid as before. He offered a wintry smile. “So far so good, boys. Let’s see how far we can play our little advantage. I want an ‘in.’ Natural flues, cracks, water courses, anything small or steep or tricky, anything they aren’t watching… you know what you’re looking for.”

Men scattered silently ahead and back through the tunnels testing each of the fissures that looked likely. Gravel shifted in dusty rattles, the only sound that marked his specialist’s burrowing down chutes and cracks barely wide enough to hold a grown man. Ibat was reminded irresistibly of burrowing rodents. There were damn few places his ‘rats’ couldn’t sneak into, not when the proverbial ‘cheese’ was so close.

“Let’s prove once and for all that mammals are the superior species…”

“Sir?” The old general turned to acknowledge the interruption. One of the radiomen had risked the interior of the cave, bringing news from the outside world. “The techs are done. It’s a bit jury rigged, but I think it’s safe to say we’re going to light up their world.”

Ibat grinned again, this time rocking back on his heels in delight.

*****

“The escort is due in by late tomorrow, Cornel Gerick and his men will remain here, most of them are injured anyway.”

“He won’t be returning to the front with me?”

The older statesman looked up from the strategy table and blinked. “You need an extra? Your own team has already been assembled… His unit is still in the field, of course, but it is too small to leave as an autonomous entity, you will absorb it into your army, you could use the extra companies.”

“How many men?” Laro resisted the urge to scratch his nose, nervous gestures had no place in the war room. “Does he know he’s being reassigned to the capital?”

// Exactly how big a command have we just yanked out from under this man? //

“… He has been supervising… fifth and sixth armies for Ibat Kai…” The politician had been taken by surprise by the question, looking to his aide to provide more information.

“The sixth was nearly destroyed after the battle at Wilker pass… the fifth is in pretty good shape, with the re-supply we’re sending out with General Nazer, they should be ready for action…”

The dark man banged his fist gently on the edge of the trestle table, jarring the topographical map’s little trees. No one would meet his gaze. “… Does /he/ know?”

“… We have not yet had time to inform him of his orders, he will be briefed on his return to the capital…”

“You…” Scrubbing his head only made the metal beads at the ends of his braids clatter, reminding him for a chilling moment of the rattle of chitinous legs and mandibles. There wasn’t a polite word strong enough for the disgust he felt. Had he been on the battlefield, he might have just spoken his peace, but he wasn’t independent quite yet. A command that was not yet his could still be taken away. Laro bit his tongue and forced himself to be coherent. “Is there a particular reason why this man is being recalled instead of being integrated?”

“It is felt that he is still too green for the responsibilities he assumed when his predecessor died.” Riquoi’s mild comment sent an almost audible warning to the group of tense soldiers and statesmen. They weren’t children to decent to name-calling and fists to resolve the obvious blunder. The duke sighed, silently taking on the blame for the decision, and any repercussions. “His losses in the past two actions have been unacceptable given his accomplishments and he is not currently in good standing with his men…”

“With all due respect my lord, the battle…”

“… Was a slaughter for everyone, I know.” He waived several of the frustrated younger officers back. “I’m not saying he’s bad. Just that he’s had bad luck, that’s all… Gerick is a clever man. He’ll be useful here. We can rotate him back into action if needed, but for now, he’s the wrong man in the wrong place.”

The frail nobleman caught Laro’s eye, and held it, making sure his point was making it across. “We need someone who can take this fight to the mat, general, not just another pawn in the game.”

“Fine,” The taller man sighed, scrubbing his head again. “But I’m not going to be the one to tell the poor bastard that he’s not coming with me.”

*****

The air smelled sickly sweet. It was a familiar aroma. General Ibat breathed through his mouth, enduring it with calm acceptance as he crab-walked his way slowly down the cramped shaft. It was dark in the wind-worn tube. There was no risking the use of lights this close to their intended prey. Multi-faceted eyes were weak on details, but they could certainly pick up on motion and point-sources of light. He had no real urge to make himself and his scouts a target.

Moving carefully so as to not dislodge any loose gravel, he played a blind game of ‘follow-the-leader’ with the man a few feet ahead of them. For the lieutenant, it was his second time down the shaft, and he moved with calm confidence.

// Ah, for the flexibility and stamina I had at 20, or hell, even 30… I’m getting too old for this nonsense… the boy Laro can /have/ it. I’ll stick to bossing the kids around out on the field. //

The pack strapped carefully to his chest didn’t make the movements any easier. He squinched along the fissure as best he could, unwilling to stay behind and let younger men have all the fun. When the crouched body just ahead of his suddenly ducked aside to reveal a wide-open room just ahead, it was all he could do not to sigh in relief. Signaling the third man to tell him they had arrived, he worked his way free of the fissure’s lip and dropped into a discrete sprawl on the shadowy ledge.

He couldn’t have asked for a better position if he had tried. Fifty feet beneath his perch was the pseudo-hive, a large cavern of natural rock that was all but blanketed in strange rusty orange mold and glassy looking stacks of pods. The Selwe hadn’t bothered to set up more than the minimum of lighting to suit their needs, various fragile looking tripods holding lamps aloft. The bright white light bathed the floor and lower walls of the cave, but left the upper half of the space blissfully dim. His troops might as well have been invisible.

// The only thing that could give us away is the change in humidity… but as covered in rock-dust as we all are, I doubt anyone is sweating /that/ much… If we move fast they won’t have time to sniff anything amiss… //

Bemused, the general watched one of the lumbering guard drones as it slowly waded through the spongy growth on the floor. It’s narrow, hard-shelled legs cut through the sticky substance easily, the disturbed molds releasing small clouds of spores and an almost dizzying wave of the rotting odor.

At least this far from civilization and the front, it was a safe bet that most of the ‘organic material’ under the mold was anything but human. In other places he hadn’t been so lucky. Here and there, in the thinner patches towards the edge of the room, evidence of the sort of ‘mulch’ used was apparent. A bony ribcage was mostly stripped of meat, recognizable as having once belonged to a goat.

// Damn sponge-eaters… at this rate even if we win the war, we’ll still starve… there’s not enough wildlife left to have a bar-b-q much less start a farm with… //

Ibat wondered to himself what the insects would do once they ran out of animals to grind into paste to feed their molds. So far the aliens had shown no sign of interest in ‘conservation,’ so there had to be some other means of getting the sugar-laden ferns to grow. He shook his head, dismissing the unimportant thoughts. Across the roof of the chamber, a similar ledge was being occupied. He waived to get their attention and pointed out the rough plan of attack. Wordlessly, he began to strip the carefully padded gas cartridges from his chest, passing them to the young man on his left. His lieutenant simply smiled, screwing the volatile fuel into one of several jury-rigged slots on the back of his weapon. On his right, the second scout was efficiently preparing coils of rope.

The general pulled his goggles and mask down off the top of his head, settling them in place with a practiced snap. The bugs were in for one hell of a surprise.

*****

Fisting his hand into his robe to keep himself from poking at his bandages, Kuja ignored the itchy sensation in his palm. He was tired, and the idea of another dinner at court without Laro was not entertaining enough to give him the appetite he lacked. The cat-man shouldered the door to his suite open and pulled his hat off with a sigh.

Sun had set already, leaving the sitting room more than a little gloomy even with the cheerful fire. The dark suited him well enough, helping to relax him after a long afternoon at the college. His students were precocious, but working with chemicals was always a messy smelly business. It hadn’t helped his headache in the slightest. Kuja sank into one of the overstuffed chairs and struggled to methodically rid himself of his boots. His fingers were clumsy with the laces.

Drained as he was, he almost didn’t see the new addition to the room. A metallic gleam caught his eye as he sat up, digging his toes into the carpet. The armor was arrayed in an almost-lifelike pose, waiting next to the fireplace for its owner to come and claim it. The genome shivered, feeling chilled by the unwelcome guest in his suite. Inanimate, the uniform hung on the stand like a ghost, an ill omen of things to come.

Feeling sick, the cat-man resolutely turned his back on the equipment, distaining further investigation. It was past time for a strategic withdrawal. Leaving a crumpled trail of clothing behind him, he climbed into bed and burrowed beneath the quilts. No one would notice his early bed-time. The servants from the college would assume he was eating at the castle. The ones from the castle would assume he had dined with the Dean. Laro would be gone until well into the night, and never expected him to wait. The deception was almost too easy. Kuja rolled onto his back, noticing for the first time how many personal touches the room had developed.

Counting the days since his arrival only reminded him that time was running out. After a month of preparation Laro’s army was ready to depart. The armor was among hundreds of finishing touches.

One of the bigger lamps was lit, wick set low to act as a guide in the darkened room. It was more than enough for him to see by, and bemused he turned to look at his small clockwork canary in its place of honor by the hearth. Kuja didn’t have the heart to keep it safe within its ornamental cage. Instead, it perched unfettered on its branch, as if staying out of mere politeness.

He pondered climbing out of bed to turn the ornamental key and make the toy sing. It, like he, had earned a quiet evening alone and unmolested. The silver-haired man fumbled through a small stack of books on the night-table only to decide he didn’t even have the energy to read.

// Like my poor little canary… It’s as if someone has neglected to wind my springs… //

The metaphor wasn’t precisely sensible. He wasn’t certain if the idea of a turn-key in his back amused or disgusted him. In the end he settled for apathy. It was the easiest course to take.

// When was the last time I woke up and really felt awake…? Rested…? //

His thoughts turned back to the canary and his afternoon spent wandering the city in Laro’s shadow. The memory was sharp, tangible, but the week after was a blur. Every day was more and more of a struggle to be ‘normal’. Vaguely he wondered if he should ask for help, seek assistance beyond what he could do for himself, but the idea was rejected as soon as it was formed. He didn’t want to worry the soldier. Not with the man so soon to be assigned to the front. As often absent as Laro was, he had an ear everywhere. It would be impossible to approach the Dean or one of the doctors without his finding out.

// I could write to Ing maybe… he’s days away and likely won’t have any suggestions beyond ‘seek local help’… but… it’s /something/ anyway… but then he’ll just get Dean Finlay involved… and she’ll tell Laro. //

He frowned. Whatever his ailment was, it could wait. Once his protector was gone, there would be time for any number of things. Kuja looked around the room, realizing that he soon would have it all to himself. It was too big for just one person; especially when that person was already rather on the short side. He curled into a ball between the sheets, knees hugged to his chest with his tail protectively covering his feet. Despite its cozy comforts, the space already had a lonely feel.

Closing his eyes, he distanced himself from his treacherous body, sending his mind to drift in the haze deep inside, trying to gain some feeling of rest that he had been sorely lacking.

*****

Burnt sugar. Ibat pulled off his mask, watching in amusement as the natural airflow of the cavern carried the majority of the smoke up and away from the floor before it could make breathing too difficult. He coughed once, nose wrinkling at a particularly acrid cloud as it passed.

“Area secure, sir.”

“Excellent.” He poked the large corpse at his feet carefully, never willing to claim victory until there was no chance of being caught by surprise. His make shift weapon – one of the tripods that until a moment ago had been heating a pile of eggs – had done well enough, the slender bar easily braking through the weak joints in the large creature’s shell. This one at least, was dead. Occasional burst of metallic screaming could still be heard from the hallways beyond, his more aggressive scouts clearing a path back to the surface so the rest of the brigade could spill down and cause mayhem among the pupae and full-grown Selwe still scuttling around the caves. Flamethrowers produced gouty puffs of destruction, caramelizing and then blackening both pods and mold with brutal efficiency.

“Reminds me of mother’s cooking, really…”

“That’s what you always say, sir…” One of the sergeants pulled his mask off, revealing a fairly clean patch of skin amidst all the soot. “She can’t have been /that/ bad…”

Ibat only grinned at the man and then around the charcoaled cave. “Just be sure of those eggs, gentlemen. I want everything in here charcoal before we leave.”

“Sir!” Both men turned to greet the new comer. “We’ve found a secondary pseudo-hive a little deeper in… we seem to have staggered into the back door of a larger complex…”

“Guards?”

“Being neutralized as we speak sir, Captain Blair requests a sterilization crew as soon as is convenient.”

The old general pulled his ‘spear’ free with a sigh, signaling several of the idle men to shoulder their weapons and follow him. “My complements to Mr. Blair, we’ll be along shortly.”

“The ‘queen’ isn’t going to like this…” His sergeant snickered maliciously, checking the gauges on his own fuel tanks before falling in step.

*****

Somehow a rather expensive bottle of wine had found its way under his arm as he paused in the kitchens for a snack. The general wasn’t usually a man for drinking, but after the stress of the day, and the final dates set, he figured it was now or never. Carefully juggling the glasses into his other hand, he fumbled with the door. It was early yet, and he couldn’t think of a better way to spend a last evening at home then enjoying a quiet night pleasantly drunk with the most beautiful man at court. Smiling stupidly he set his burdens on the table, pouring himself a drink while accustoming his eyes to the gloomy interior. He almost tripped on a boot on his way to the bedroom and frowned that the maids had forgotten it.

// Maybe he’s not back yet? //

Laro adjusted the wick, coaxing the flame higher to better light the room. Once he could see the floor he chuckled, wondering how he had managed to not trip over the rest. Stooping to pick up the forlorn piles of clothes, he piled them in a chair.

// Somebody wasn’t expecting me to come back until dawn again… //

It took a moment to distinguish what was man and what was bedding among the satiny quilts. He sat on the edge, appreciating the chance to watch his partner sleeping. Deciding that he dared, Laro reached out and gently shook the cat-man’s arm. Masa came awake with a squeaky yawn, his expression adorably child-like.

“Good evening…”

Blue eyes blinked lazily at him, “Is that wine?”

“Ah, I see you have your priorities in order… you must be awake.”

The silver-haired man smiled, stretching as only he could before sitting up and claiming the glass. “How very thoughtful… did you bring one for yourself?”

Shaking his head in amusement, Laro went to fetch the second glass only to pause at the door. “When did /that/ arrive.”

“Sometime this afternoon I imagine. It was waiting for you when I got here.” Curious, his companion had left the warmth of the bed in order to stand beside him. The general’s borrowed robe was almost enough to wrap around him twice, hands and feet incongruously small where they peeked out from under the volumes of quilted fabric.

“… It looks alright…”

“Do you really fight with all that armor on the one arm?”

“More mobile than having a shield…”

“What if they strike for the other side?”

“I dodge?”

“Hmmm, good point.” The slender man tucked his arms into his sleeves.

“You cold?”

“… Not really.” Masa shrugged.

“Pity you aren’t coming with me, it’ll be hotter than hell this time of year…”

“I /do/ have a certain fondness of deserts, but unless you’ve changed your mind…”

“No.”

“… then I’m staying here.” The cat-man sighed. “I wish you’d reconsider.”

Having no answer the soldier claimed the second glass, sipping the mellow wine as he moved to look at the pile of supplies. His partner simply sighed, moving to light two of the lamps in the sitting room.

“You should try it on… make sure it fits…”

Laro turned, suspicious of the mild comment. “I’m sure it’s fine.”

“Oh come… I’ll help…”

“Why?”

Masa’s eyes twinkled mischievously. “Maybe I fancy a man in uniform…?”

“I’m in a uniform now… one a hell of a lot more ‘huggable’ than all /that/…” Even protesting, he knew he had lost. If playing the fool was what it took to make his wily partner smile, then he was more than happy to oblige. He sighed melodramatically. “But it seems you’ll have to see for yourself… I feel silly wearing a helmet indoors.”

The cat-man simply chuckled, watching appreciatively as he peeled off jacket shirt and shoes. There was nothing too complicated in the layers and toggles, even out of practice, Laro remembered how things were supposed to be with only one or two moments of confusion. Delicate fingers helped to straighten out tangled straps and reach the last two awkward pulls that tightened his shoulder plates against his chest. Stretching a little to settle the armor, he decided that there were one or two places that could still use padding. His aides could deal with it tomorrow.

“Well well… it looks better on you then on the rack.”

Taking the proffered helmet, the soldier raked his hair back and crammed it on his head. It was hopelessly formal, only used for parades and the like. He felt like his head was inside a barrel. “…Tada.”

“Impressive.” It was impossible to tell if the man was laughing at him or not.

“Happy?”

“…Thrilled.”

“Good, now help me get out of this thing?”

This time Masa did laugh, taking the helmet back and placing it reverently on the couch. “You look like some sort of titan, ‘Nazer Kai’… my own mighty Aries gird for war… well… except he was always drawn with a kilt…”

“What’s a kilt?”

“A kind of skirt.”

“Sounds embarrassing.” He went to unlace the protective plates from his arm only to find himself intercepted. An armful of silvery beauty was more than a little distracting. Before he could stop himself he was being pulled down into an eager kiss. Happy to oblige, he held Masa closer, adding his own desire to the spark he felt between them. The cat-man chuckled and then winced, accidentally banging an elbow against the layered plates.

“Ow …”

“Oh damn, are you alright?” It was hard not to laugh at his partner’s sulky expression as he nursed his elbow. Laro grinned, but only a little. “I told you this get-up wasn’t very huggable.”

“Then by all means, sweet Aries, we must strip you of this ‘uncomely shell’, lest your Virgo slip away from you and seek comfort in the arms of another.”

“What are you talking about…” Bemused, he made quick work of shedding the armored jacket and then starting on the rest. He left the costume in a heap next to the couch.

“Nothing, just remembering an old story, that’s all… nothing important…”

“This ‘Aries’ was a soldier? Who was Virgo?”

“An indecisive maid who was courted by many princes.” Masa shrugged eloquently, “Another drink?”

“Why not.” The alcohol was sweeter than expected on the second glass, helping him to forget his trying day. “So will you tell me?”

“Tell you what?”

“The story… you rarely speak of things from your homeland.”

“There is rarely ever something worth saying about it.”

“Tell me anyway.” Shirtless, Laro wondered if the room wasn’t a little cool after all. It made no sense to get dressed again so late in the evening, but reclaiming his robe would only leave his partner in a similar situation.

// … unless I remember to give him the damn box… //

He smiled, finishing the glass and setting it aside. “But first, ‘what goes around, comes around’ I think…”

“What’s all this?” The silver-haired man raised an eyebrow curiously as he watched the soldier fumbling through several of the boxes still unopened next to the hearth.

“You’ll see…” The dark-man produced a rather ornamental package from the pile, wide and flat of the sort used to hold clothing. “Here.”

Masa looked at the box, and then at the man. “What is it?”

“For you, idiot. Open it?” Giving the silvery man gifts outright was usually hit-or-miss depending on the mood, but the heady wine had given him confidence. “I remembered that you liked this one… and gods know /mine/ could hold three of you… so I figured, what’s the harm…?”

Doubtful fingers lifted off the lid and pulled back the layer of paper. The cat-man sighed in pleasure although a little melancholy. “… It’s lovely.”

“It’d look better on you?” Feeling a sort of childish anticipation he set the box down, pulling the silky fabric free and holding it up. If this was to be his last night of ‘peace’ he was determined to enjoy it as much as he could, even if it meant acting like a kid again. “Your turn to try things on… fair’s fair…”

// humor me, Masa… //

The pale man’s hesitation lasted a long moment before he succumbed with a chuckle. Laro’s over-sized robe was shed and draped on the chair in exchange for the new garment. The soldier could only whisper a silent thank you to which ever god had decided that the man needed no body-shyness. Wine colored satin the slid over the smooth skin in a way that was utterly touchable. He had to pinch himself to stop ogling.

“See something you like?”

“Yes?” He swallowed dryly, and wondered at his good luck. Even tired-looking and somewhat wild-haired from his recent nap, Masa seemed imperial when draped around by the rich purple color. “…I… I was going to get you the blue one… but then I thought… the first time I saw you… you had a color sort of like that…”

“Call me hopelessly effeminate, but purples have always been my favorites…” The strong color of the fabric caused exotic highlights in his silver hair. The contrast of the pale flax on dark satin was all the more interesting for the added color. Compared to the more ‘orthodox’ color palette of his usual jackets, the cat-man’s robe all but glowed. “…Thank you, Laro…”

“Now you can hold court in bed if you like… boss the servants around and be a nuisance to make up for the fact that you can’t yell at me like you’re used to…”

“I doubt it…” Masa smiled quietly and ran an appreciative hand over the fabric of his draped sleeve. “… It’s warmer than I expected…”

“Good.” Uncertain how to react to his partner’s mood, the soldier reclaimed his less glamorous wrap and investigated the contents of his bottle. Somehow in their conversation they had managed to work their way through the majority of the wine. It was no wonder he was talking like an idiot.

// Well ‘drunk’ was on the agenda… and this /is/ a strong enough pressing, especially for a lightweight like me… // He looked over at the slender man, appreciating the way he bent to extinguish the lamps.

// He looks a little pink too, and not just from the robe… for the best I suppose, it’d be embarrassing to be drunk under the table by a man who weighs half of what I do… and on one bottle of wine… //

Laro had no doubts as to which of them would last longer in such a contest, but he decided it didn’t matter. Toping off both glasses with the last of the vintage, he followed the cat-man into the bedroom.

*****

The labyrinthine passages took them straight to the edge of the mountain. Advanced troops cleared the way with whatever they could, risking small landslides to trap or cripple their opponents whenever they dared. The Selwe had no advantage in the tight quarters of their caves. Even the ceilings weren’t high enough in the tubes for them to crawl to safety. Ibat’s attack force poured through the complex with an almost rabid efficiency, grateful for an easy fight after months of battling in the open where the bugs had every advantage.

It was surprising, therefore when they found themselves staggering back into sunlight, soft dirt underfoot rather than the smooth wind-cut stone of the chasms above. The sandy waste stretched off into the distance, running until it hit another low rise of mountains, and the slender black line of another spire, a Tower currently beyond their reach.

Already well across the lumpy plain, the last of their prey were scuttling and flying in frantic haste, following some pre-conditioned signal to return to the next hive point. Several men made to follow, unable to resist the promise offered. The survivors would lead them to the next logical attack point, hopefully another set of caves where they could have another easy victory.

“Wait.”

Ibat squinted across the hot sandy plateau, instinct telling him to be cautious. There was nothing, just the retreating black specks of their enemies. The itch to pursue them while they were still in sight was overwhelming.

“General… they’re…”

“I know…” He sighed in frustration. “Sound a ‘regroup’, I want to go as much as you do, but I want to know our ass is covered if it’s an ambush…”

Dedicated as the soldiers were, the two laser cannons were hoisted into place as fast as was safe, scouts scaling the porous rock wall to scan the field. “They’re making a straight run, no sign that they’ve been heard by the next hive…”

“It’s only a matter of time…” The old general exchanged the bent metal pole for his customary harpoon-style weapon. “Right, I need some volunteers who want a little exercise…”

“With all due respect sir, you’re not going.” Captain Blair’s face was smoky black from fighting in the caves. It made his square features all the more severe. “Leave it to the fast-footed… we’ll track them and signal back with anything we find out.”

“Too /old/ am I…?”

“Age and speed are two separate things.” The officer adjusted his weapon, a nasty looking pike that replaced a left hand long missing. “Besides, it’s not a general’s place to do grunt re-con work.”

Ibat looked longingly over the sand, but had to concede the point. “Very well then, captain. Let’s see if you can keep them in sight… take a radio.”

“They’ll hear.”

“Take it anyway… for safety.”

Understanding dawned, and the stern expression relaxed into a small smile. “Yessir.”

Ten men followed the captain out into the sun, long legs stretching into a ground-eating lope. The white-haired commander watched them as they shrunk into the distance, studying the plains with a worried glare. Something about the rubble-strewn sand bothered him.

“Eyes sharp above.” His scouts affirmed the order quietly, hunkering low against the rocks as they watched their friend’s progress. There was precious little in the scenery to take as a landmark, or any sort of point of reference. The only things visible were the bugs, the soldiers and the occasional scrubby patch of grass, tiny specks in the sea of dusty brown.

Looking down, Ibat studied the gravely texture of the dry soil. A shiver started in his feet and tickled the back of his knees. For a moment he assumed it was exhaustion, but observing the dirt, he felt it again, watching small pebbles skitter as he did so. Something clicked and he swore softly before turning to his men. Standing on the rocks, or positioned on the cliffs, they couldn’t feel the vibration in the earth.

“Call Blair! There’s a digger!”

His radiomen were too sharp to waste time asking questions, shouting the terse instructions into the battered pickups as the scouts manning the cannons, doubled their efforts. There would be a sign before the attack, if their eyes were sharp enough to see it.

// Come on you bastard… where are you… //

If the digger was between Blair and the caves, the man would have a better chance continuing ahead. If the monster lay ahead, then not to turn back was suicide. The old general gritted his teeth, studying the rocky outcrops scattered around the barren area. Younger eyes seeing what he could not, one of the artillerymen began shouting out directions, his voice echoed immediately over the radio to assist their running comrades.

Everyone turned to see what was happening, the trembling underfoot easier to detect now that the creature was surfacing. Black as raven wing, a massive millipede like body breached the sandy surface like a freight train, thousands of delicate legs churning to cleave the soil as it emitted a hissing bellow.

// Big mother… easy target, if we can hit it before it hits the captain… //

“Open fire.”

Bursts of laser light skidded across the mammoth beast’s back like splashes of water, seeking out the tender membranes between the segmented armor. It was a distraction at best. The volunteers had turned back, using the small lead they had been given for all it was worth. Sprinting across the loose soil, they strained to regain the safety of bedrock, the sheltering shadows of the caves.

// But how many… is there another? Do we have enough firepower to even stop /one/? //

It had been over a year since Ibat had last seen a full-grown crawler, two years since he had needed to fight one. He wasn’t looking forward to it, rocky protection or not. His attack force was traveling light, moving to clear a path for the bulk of the army as it navigated the mountains. They were prepared for skirmishes, not for all out assaults on giants. He racked his brain for anything in the dwindling supplies that could be of use.

“Incendiaries?”

His aide shook his head grimly, “None left sir.”

“What /have/ we got then.”

“A few more fuel canisters, ropes and cables… nothing big enough to take an earth-digger down…”

The monster was gaining speed. Their only advantage lay in that facing-towards them, it’s fragile sensory organs were exposed. Ibat’s laser gunners did their grim best to blind the insect, shooting above the heads of their teammates as they ran flat out for the caves. One of the lagging men tripped and disappeared from view no one turned back to check on him.

The general watched their progress, realizing that neither his men, nor the giant insect would slow their progress upon reaching the caves. “All men fall back. We’re going to get slammed!”

He reached out and caught the first of the lasers that was dropped from above. Cradling the precious cargo as the scouts followed it down. Scrambling to get out of the way, they fell back into the shady depths. Ibat gauged the height of their enemy to the height of the cave’s mouth, not liking what he saw. “We need a side passage, a smaller one.”

”About 50 feet back, sir.”

“Good, that’ll do just fine.” He looked out across the sand, almost able to hear his men breathing as they ran. Most of them would probably make it in time. “Run boys…”

The first group of men hit the cave and didn’t stop, knowing even without the shouting to continue deeper. Right behind them, the digger didn’t hesitate, plowing into the echoing caves with an almost mechanical screech of carapace-on-stone.

Ibat patted his captain on the shoulder as the man gasped for breath against the wall. The entrance to their side passage was entirely obscured by a massive black armored flank.

“With all due respect sir…” One of his aides tapped his shoulder and pointed at his favorite weapon. He looked down at the harpoon, and then at the large canister of methane in the young man’s hands and smiled.

****

The hands sliding along his back were almost scorching hot, fingers rough in comparison with the satin and all the more real for it. Kuja pressed back into the bed, coaxing his suitor closer, wanting to be immersed in the desperate warmth. He sighed in contentment as the dark man complied, settling himself gently above and beside, burrowing his face against the cat-man’s neck. Kuja couldn’t help but shiver at the contrast, fingers instinctively tangling in the coarse little braids to cradle the soldier closer. The wine sat strangely in his stomach, churning and sour and refusing to settle. It echoed his headache from before. He forced himself to ignore it, focusing instead on tracing the small scars running along his lover’s back. Fingers sympathetically pet the old wounds before moving on to memorize the rest of the smooth muscled torso. Muffled a little by the pillow, he heard his name being whispered in his ear.

// There is definitely something to this ‘being blanketed’ by someone… To think, I couldn’t stand it when King or one of the others tried to sleep on me… maybe it was a trust thing… sex is one thing, but actually sleeping is something else… // He closed his eyes and curled closer to the second occupant of the bed.

// I used to feel… chained… caged… but with him it’s different. //

The soldier nuzzled his ear as his hands continued their soothing caress. “Laro… you can’t be comfortable all curled like that…”

“My left arm is going to sleep, now that you mention it.” The comment was interspersed with ticklish kisses. Squirming to get his sensitive ear out of reach, the silver-haired man laughed breathlessly.

“So lay normally then.”

“I don’t want to crush you.”

“So don’t.”

“But I want to touch you…”

“Hmmm that could be more of a challenge…” Kuja felt more than heard the man’s amused grumbling. After a moment of fumbling he coaxed them into a more comfortable tangle. Laro’s are was more than long enough to sneak under his waist and circle his back. The large hand’s range was limited, stroking his side a moment before settling comfortably on his hip. The smaller man sighed, leaning into the smooth shoulder, content to be cuddled as long as he could. Something about the living heat was infinitely superior to huddling alone in the soft bedding. He tried to encourage the touches to continue, coaxing the hand resting on his shoulder to continue its stroke.

“… Poor attention starved kitten…” Lips teased his ear again, almost distracting him from the steady pressure running the length of his spine. The warm touch didn’t stop at his hip, two fingers playfully sliding from skin to tail and daring to tug gently.

“Ow.” Kuja turned his face against the hot skin, biting down gently as a warning. His tail received a conciliatory pat. If the weight of the sheets would have allowed it, he would have let it lash the man.

“Sorry…”

“No you’re not…”

The soldier shifted again, working down the bed enough to manage a kiss.  “Am too…” Dark eyes watched him. What they saw made the man smile.

“What?”

“… love you.” The cat-man rolled his eyes at the sentimentality, but didn’t have the heart to scold like he usually would. Laro smiled wider at the lack of rebuttal. “… and I know you feel the same…”

“Says who?” Curious, Kuja tilted his head to study the man’s expression. Only one person had ever dared to presume on his emotions, and it had been unnerving then too. It was bad enough to have done something selfless for his ego-maniac brother without having been called on it.

“Me…” A large finger pressed gently against his lips, silencing his sharp reply. “Even if you say otherwise… I think… I think you must care more than just a little… I believe you do…”

// … and you’re implying that if I say otherwise… it’ll break your poor heart, won’t it… Laro, the world isn’t as innocent as you seem to take it for… //

He looked away a moment, and found that he didn’t have the heart to contradict. It was cowardice to allow the soldier to lead himself on… or maybe it was cowardice that prevented himself from really considering the possibilities between them. He didn’t care to find out. Neither answer held much appeal to him. In the end he simply smiled up at the man wondering if his expression was still coy, or if it looked as sickly as he was afraid it did. “… if you say so.”

“I know so.”

“… and now?”

“I may leave tomorrow…”

“Or the morning after…”

“.. yes, or the morning after…”

It was almost painful to watch the dark man’s bashful hesitation; especially when he already knew the question. Kuja returned the small kisses in kind, wondering whether to take pity on his more reserved friend. He was tired -- it was true -- but not so tired to pass up the only chance he was likely to get. Deciding to be bold he shifted slightly, working his hands down the muscular chest in a way that would guarantee his words would not be misunderstood. “Would you mind terribly then… if I wanted something to remember you by?”

“…Masa…”

“I’ll need something to keep me warm all alone in this bed until you return…”

// If you return… oh god, I don’t want to be left alone here… //

Latching onto the warmth, he wrapped himself around the soldier as much as he was able. Kisses still flavored a little by the wine, Laro followed his lead, laying above him with his weight on his elbows as they touched and tasted each other. Aching muscles complained at the slow rhythm building between them, but heat seeped through the bed giving energy where he thought he had none. The skin gently grinding against his felt almost molten. He wrapped his legs around, unwilling to give an inch wishing there was a way to coax the dark man’s more volatile blood into flowing along his veins as well.

// I want… I want to feel alive… //

The general was leading now, the best Kuja could do was try and keep up. His body responded as if asleep. Even when presented the one thing he had been yearning for, the arousal flowing in him was slow and weak. He focused on the tenuous sensations, fanning them brighter in a way he had never needed to before.

// … for Laro… //

Burying his face in the comforting nook beneath the taller man’s chin, he repeated the words to himself, amazed to realize that physically at least, he didn’t really want this. The desire was there, but his body was stubbornly uncooperative. Hesitantly, he reached down to stroke himself, knuckles grazing his lover’s more impressive assets, trying to remind himself of the pleasure he had enjoyed in the past. A second hand moved to cover his, caressing both of them under the sheets and finally igniting the spark he had somehow misplaced. The cat-man sighed in delight lapping playfully at the salty skin beneath his lips as the dark man thrust against him. Almost in another world, Laro’s eyes were closed as he worked them both into readiness.

“You want me…” He didn’t have to pretend breathless anticipation. He couldn’t seem to keep enough air in his lungs. Forcing his treacherous body to behave, he stretched a little, hooking a finger around the drawer-pull to get at the contents within.

“More than anything…”

“Well then?” The oil was cool on his fingers. He shivered as he applied it despite the heat around him.

“…It’s alright?”

“I want you to.” Kuja turned his face back against the soldier’s shoulder and relaxed as best he could. It wasn’t quite enough. Somehow his murmured words of encouragement were audible despite the paralyzing discomfort. His lover was both gentle and adept. It was a pity he couldn’t appreciated it more. He closed his eyes and forced himself to breathe normally. All that mattered anymore was to be convincing about it, forcing himself to move as he should, sigh as he should, and wonder at why there was no pleasure in it; wonder when it would be over.

// He mustn’t know… //

The general separated from him with a sigh, rolling on his side and pulling the smaller man against him to keep him close. The pale man sighed, knowing his companion was too much of a gentleman to just fall asleep and give him time to himself. Thankfully, Laro didn’t seem to have much to say, preferring to touch instead. His large hands were soothing as they smoothed over his skin. He shivered and curled closer feeling clammy and ill.

// I don’t understand… why… I’ve never been sick in my life… why do I have to feel like this /now/… //

“You’re crying.” The whisper was almost horrified, forcing Kuja to pay attention enough to open his eyes. His face felt suspiciously damp. More than he would have expected from just sweat alone. He raised his hand, disbelieving until he felt wet trails the tears had left behind.

“Oh…” He tasted his fingers, the salty flavor acidic on his tongue. Paralyzed with guilt, his lover could only watch. “I really am…”

“I hurt you…”

// ‘It wasn’t you, it was me’… isn’t that how my line goes…? He deserves better… deserved better. //

“There are other reasons for tears you know, then because of hurt…” Kuja was amazed at how easily the lie, and the smile, came to his lips. He could feel the tense muscles under his fingers begin to relax, guilt reluctantly fading. A playful kiss helped it along, though the movement made his stomach turn unpleasantly.

“You were… just as sweet as I thought you would be…”

“Are you sure?”

“I think I am the authority on how I feel, Laro…” He smiled again, pleased by the dark man’s sheepish expression. “You worry too much.”

“I guess I’m just not used to making people cry…”

He felt the bars to his cage closing. His innocent expression masked an almost suffocating sensation. Kuja feigned a yawn. “… I was… just thinking… of how lonely it will be… when you are away.”

“Oh.” Sympathetic, the larger man curled around him again assuming correctly that he wanted to sleep soon. “I… I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be silly… you do what you must. I understand that… I really do.” The cat-man closed his eyes, allowing his lover to assume his gentle caresses were lulling him into a dream. It wasn’t until long after the hand had grown still that he dared to slip from the bed to get quietly sick in the bathroom.

*****

*****

Padded it a little to make up for the lateness… sigh –Lunar.