Shelter
Disclaimer: The characters presented in the fanfiction belong to Squaresoft. I may not own Blank, but I do own at cosplaying him. e.e;
Author's Note: This is my first Final Fantasy IX fanfiction that has actually been published. I thought it only suitable that I should honor my favorite game with my favorite pairing from it! Enjoy!
And now, Sakai Michiba presents,
Shelter
Chapter One
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Blank was sitting by himself in his room in the clock tower, listening to the gears whirring as the clock in the Tantalus hideout announced to all of Lindblum that it was, indeed, 1:00 a.m. He sighed as the bell gave one long tone, and he drew his mismatched knees up to his chest, unable to sleep even though it was storming like hell outside. Normally, storms helped him sleep, but tonight, not even the steady rhythm could lull him to unconsciousness.
He was thinking too much about Zidane. It had been six long weeks since Zidane had gone back to Garnet, and Blank had found himself to be an instant insomniac. During Zidane’s stay at Tantalus again, Blank had been with him the entire time, holding him during nightmares and helping him recover from his injuries. It had been as though they were kids again, and Zidane was having his nightmares about what was later discovered to be Terra. Blank closed his eyes a bit and reached over to touch the spot where Zidane would curl up next to him, laughing and sounding so very happy as he would go on about Garnet for hours.
God, how Blank hated the Queen of Alexandria. He hated her with EVERYTHING he was. He looked down at his brown and white hands, seeing the play of the stitches that connected his real skin and the grafts in his mind, and then dropped them back down to the mattress. ‘Who the hell am I kidding?’ he snorted mentally, pulling the blanket back over his mismatched shoulders.
He knew he was too hideous to be loved by anyone, much less someone as beautiful as Zidane Tribal. Zidane was, in Blank’s eyes, the most incredible creature ever to walk Gaia. Blank did not have to be able to see to know that. He also did not have to be able to see to feel the eyes of all bearing down upon him, staring at his skin grafts and whispering to themselves about how something horrible must have happened to him. He did not know what he looked like-he just knew that, while he could still remember colours from when he was a child, he had been told what his skin looked like on the partially-numb grafts. He had a vision in his head of what he must look like, and he coughed a little into his hand, feeling sick because of it.
Tears rose to his blind eyes, and he felt them seep out from beneath his headband. With a groan, he threw his headband off and swiped angrily at the tears, drying them and the headband before putting them back on. He wore it even during sleep, lest someone come in the morning and catch a glimpse of his eyes while he slept. He did not know if he slept with them open or closed, and he was not very anxious to find out.
Suddenly, there was a great crashing through the open window, and Blank leapt out of bed as something landed on it, wet and shaking. He grabbed his knife and held it at the ready, assuming a battle stance, though a moment later, when he heard a soft weeping, he lowered his knife. With blind caution, he crept back over to the bed and reached down, feeling a soaking wet head of hair. Drawing his hand down, he felt of a cheek, and it struck him who this was.
“...Zidane, what are you doing?” he asked quietly, a soft sigh of relief releasing all his tension. “...You’re supposed to be at the castle...What...Why are you crying?” He was shocked as he felt hot tears splashing down cold, wet cheeks, and he pulled the soaked boy out of the bed. “...Damn it. You’re changing my sheets...”
Zidane held still as Blank ran a hand over his hair and face, knowing that Blank needed time for recognition, and when he was pulled off of the bed, he ignored the fact that Blank was trying to change his clothes and leaned against him, burying his face in the shorter boy’s shoulder as he cried. He had never felt so dejected, so very lied to, and he knew he had never been in so much trouble in his entire life. As Blank’s hands stilled and then slid around Zidane’s torso, holding him close, he whimpered and shivered, so very cold even though he knew he was burning with fever.”S-sorry,” he whispered, and he moved to stand back as Blank’s hands resumed undressing him.
“Shut up, Zidane,” Blank said quietly, peeling layer by layer of Zidane’s wet, cold clothes off of him. Don’t you dare apologize to me.” That quieted Zidane, and he slowly uncurled his spastic tail from his own thigh, letting it hang to the ground. He held on to Blank’s shoulders, feeling unsteady on his feet, as he watched the blind boy undress him. He was just starting to relax when he heard feet pounding up the stairs, and he looked around, sliding out of Blank’s grasp to hide against the wall.
Blank felt the sudden absence of wet Genome, and he thought quickly, hearing the pounding on the door. “Blank! We heard something in there! What’s going on! Are you okay!” Marcus called. The patched boy froze, a million things running through his head, and he swallowed before answering.
“I have COMPANY, if you don’t mind!” he growled back, and he could hear the blush in Marcus’ voice as he apologized profusely and ran away, the pounding of his feet on the stairs just evidence that he was gone. With a sigh, he stood there, feeling out the room. He could hear Zidane breathing to his left, and he moved to the harsh sound, pressing his hand on Zidane’s chest to feel his heart pounding. “...What’s going on?” he asked softly, and he felt the other choke down a sob.
“I n-need to stay here, Blank...They c-can’t know. Nobody can...” He sounded very frightened, and Blank nodded his consent a moment before he rendered Zidane totally naked. Finding a towel on the rack by the door, he slowly began to dry Zidane off, his natural cheek blushing as he ran the towel over the curves of Zidane’s pretty body. He draped another towel over Zidane’s head, scrubbing the dripping water out of his hair before he wrapped it in the towel to dry on its own for a while. “Th-thank you,” Zidane whispered, shivering, and he took the towel from Blank, drying himself off.
Blank smiled faintly and went over to the bed, yanking the soaked blankets off and replacing them with dry ones. It was truly amazing, the tasks he could perform even though he was totally blind. He knew where everything was in his room, and he could retrieve something there faster than any seeing man could. Zidane watched him with a soft smile, and when the bed was made, he walked over to him, sliding into the bed and sitting there, his eyes closing as Blank’s hands moved to take the towel from his head and replaced it with a brush, brushing out the tangles present there.
“What’s wrong?” Blank asked quietly as he finished brushing that hair and slid into drier clothes. He offered some to Zidane, too, but the Genome didn’t take them. With a sigh, Blank slid back into the bed, reaching over to feel Zidane’s shoulder. He felt him quivering, and he sighed. “Zidane, no...don’t...”
The blonde choked as the other slid his arms around him, and he felt fever burning through him and he pressed hard against Blank. He found that he could not speak, and so he merely shook his head. He could feel the other’s heart beating quickly, and he reached up to touch his chest. “Please...not right now...”
Blank sighed and nodded a bit. “Rest, Zidane,” he whispered, and as he lay down with Zidane in his arms, he felt the other drift off to an instantaneous sleep. He inhaled his scent, smelling how sick he was, and began to worry. Did he not realize , if he continued to be this sick, that he would have to be placed under the care of a doctor? His fever was making Blank sweat, but he did not dare move. He was just happy to have Zidane there with him.
The next morning, he heard a pounding at the door, and he froze. “Who is it?” he called, making sure Zidane was properly covered. He heard the Genome in his arms mewl softly in his sleep, and he looked, panicked, down at him. “Zidane, shhh...” he breathed before he felt the person at the door slam inside.
He groaned as Ruby came into the room, and in a frenzy, he pulled Zidane very close, hiding his face. This woke Zidane immediately, and he was about to protest before he heard Ruby’s voice. “What is THIS, Blank! The boss is gonna kick your butt from here to tarnation if he catches you a-sleepin’ around in the hideout! Who is she?”
Blank was sure that if he was actually “a-sleepin’ around,” that he would be horribly embarrassed, but he merely glared up at Ruby, holding Zidane tighter. “Ruby, shut up. She’s asleep,” he growled. Zidane took the hint and mewled in a high-pitched voice, smiling secretly to himself as Ruby gave an annoyed scoff and hurried out, closing the door. When she was gone, he stirred in Blank’s arms and smiled up at him even though he couldn’t see it.
“Thanks,” he whispered, and he sniffled a little, shaking even though he was very warm. He could not seem to stop trembling thanks to the sickness, and he squeezed his eyes closed, trying to stop. He felt Blank’s breath on his face at that moment, and he froze, his hands frozen on the other’s back.
Blank came so very close to kissing the other in that moment that he could hardly stand it. He could feel Zidane so very close there to him, his heart pounding, but he kept from kissing the other, having to use all the power within himself to pull back. “You’re welcome,” he whispered, pulling back a little further, not trusting himself.
Zidane’s eyes opened, and he found Blank there, looking embarrassed. He opened his mouth to say something about it, then he thought better of it and reached out to touch Blank’s face, thumb tracing the stitches. “Don’t,” Blank hissed, and he jerked his head out of reach. Zidane was startled, but he obeyed and then turned to face away from Blank.
“...She always said that I could come back and visit you guys as much as I wanted...always said that it would be the same, no matter what. We were gonna get married, Blank.”
Those words caught Blank’s attention, and he looked in Zidane’s direction, his breath caught in his throat. This must be the reason that Zidane had come running to him in the middle of the night. “Yeah?” he asked quietly, feeling quite jealous, though none of it sounded in his voice. “What happened?”
Zidane rolled back over so he might look at Blank as they spoke. “Well...you know how Kuja was staying in the Black Mage Village? And that he was going to going to come live in Alexandria whenever he felt better and things had kinda passed over?”
Blank felt a growing sense of dread in his stomach, and he gave a small nod. “Yes, I remember that...” he said quietly, reaching out to find Zidane’s face. He found it, and he touched his cheek softly, ready to catch any tears that might fight their way from the confines of his eyes. “Go on, Zidane...”
Zidane paused for a few moments before he swallowed and squeezed his eyes closed. “When he came to Alexandria to find lodging, someone recognized him from the attack,” he claimed, and Blank felt him give a terrible shudder. “They moved to attack him, B-Blank, and he defended himself...b-but...the guards s-saw him c-casting magic and...they went after him. I happened to be in town a-and I tried to interfere, b-but they...B-Blank they...” He cut himself off with a terrible sob, his whole body convulsing as he tried to reduce the sound.
Blank wished more than anything at that moment that he was not blind so he might look upon Zidane’s tears and comfort him with a warm gaze, but he could not. “Oh Zidane,” he whispered, and a moment later, he had an armful of Genome, nuzzling him softly. “What did they do?” he asked quietly, trying to quell Zidane’s quivering.
“They...she was th-there, too...a-and...K-Kuja had b-been so sick...He c-couldn’t fight them, and she...Bahamut...revenge...” It was apparent that Zidane could not speak another word as he became a sobbing heap in Blank’s arms. Blank was shocked by Zidane’s words; how could Garnet have summoned Bahamut against Zidane’s brother? She could not possibly understand. Zidane had spent his entire life looking for his family, and when he had found it...Oh, Blank was fuming.
Blank lifted Zidane’s head and touched their cheeks. “I’ll get revenge for you,” he whispered, hands soft on Zidane’s back. The Genome was surprised by these words, but he said nothing, a mass of goo in Blank’s arms. “Don’t you worry, Zidane. She’ll get what’s coming to her...”
Zidane nodded and looked up then into Blank’s face, wishing that he could so something, anything, to make his oldest friend able to see again. He remembered when the accident happened-Blank and a boy named Gene had decided to go an adventure to find him, since he had run off looking for home again. Zidane came up on the pair of them in the field, but instead of getting welcomed with warm arms, he was grabbed by Gene and jerked into an encasing of roots near Pinnacle Rocks.
Zidane had tried to reach out for Blank-he saw the Mist monster chasing after him but was unable to get there in time. The three boys screamed in unison as Blank was caught and, in a flash of tusks, teeth, and claws, shredded to pieces. Zidane had escaped from Gene’s hold, and with the draw of his knife, he was on top of the monster. He could hear nothing but Blank screaming, a sound that filled his head so that he could not even hear the monster roaring or Gene as he jumped into the fray, impaled upon one of the great tusks and killed instantly.
His knife had pierced the skull of the monster a hundred times, he knew, before the beast fell. Surveying the scene before him, Zidane knew that Gene was gone, but Blank was still alive, though barely. With a growl, he lifted Blank into his arms and began to run for Lindblum. Blank’s eyes were pouring copious amounts of blood, and he looked down into his best friend’s face, tears running down his own, and he whispered, “Blank...I-I g-got ya, bro...”
Days later, after Blank had been patched and a diagnosis given, the now multi-coloured boy had opened his eyes, irises misshapen and the whites bloodshot. Zidane had gasped, reaching forward to snatch his young friend’s hand. “Z-Zidane?” Blank asked quietly. “T-take off the eye patches. My eyes don’t hurt...”
“...There aren’t any eye patches, Blank..”
For days after that, Blank was too depressed to eat or even get out of bed. Zidane never left his side, feeling terribly guilty because, in his mind, it was entirely his fault that all of this had happened. He had never been close to Gene, so that death did not affect him, but the loss of Blank’s eyesight was terrible to Zidane. “Zidane,” Blank had whispered one morning as he woke up. “I can’t remember anything...except that I saw you looking down at me...You’re the only thing I can see...” From that moment on, Blank wore a headband around his eyes, not wanting to see anything but Zidane ever again.
All Zidane ever did was get Blank in trouble, and now, as they lay there in their late teen years, Blank was bailing him out again without asking anything in return. “You’re s-so good to me, Blank,” he whispered, his hands moving to touch Blank’s bare chest. He felt so naked (considering he was) and shy even though Blank could not see his bare body. “What did I ever do to d-deserve you?”
Blank froze before he placed his hand over Zidane’s and smiled at him. “Zidane, you have a fever,” he whispered. “You’re upset...Just relax, okay?” He felt Zidane melt under the gentle touches administered as he forced him to lie on his back and be covered with the thick heavy blanket. “Are you hungry? I’ll go get some breakfast for you...Get some rest...”
Zidane shook his head and reached up to grab Blank’s wrist, pulling him quickly back to the bed. “N-no! They’ll be suspicious! Please, Blank...stay with me. I d-don’t want to be alone...been alone for a week...” The more he spoke, the more pathetic he sounded. “...The guard’s after me...’cause princes can’t run away...I had to hide for forever out there, moving just a little bit at a time...I feel so sick...”
Blank paused and then sighed, nodding before he got up and slid the lock to the door in place. With a sigh, he returned to the bed and climbed in beside Zidane, gently running his hand through his hair. “Tonight, we’ll get you a bath, ‘kay? Not that you really need one, with the soaking you got last night, but maybe you’ll feel better...”
Zidane nodded a little and slid to lie against his oldest friend, tucking his head in against his chest. He felt Blank give pause before those warm, strong hands slid over his shoulders and held him close. Blank’s heart was pounding again from being so close to Zidane-did the Genome know what he did to him? Doubtful, and he was not about to try something with him while he was in such a state of distress. “Let’s go back to sleep, Blank...I’m t-tired...”
Blank gave in, holding Zidane close and trying to ignore the fever that burned within the other boy. “Yes, rest, Zidane...” He felt Zidane’s tail curl around his thigh, a sign that he was indeed asleep, and Blank allowed himself to fall back unconscious as well.
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Author's Note: This is the end of chapter one. I hope you have enjoyed this so far. This is one of my favorite pairings of all time, especially since I'm a Blank cosplayer. I have pictures of that, if any of you want it. Just email me, and I can promptly send it. Thanks for reading thus far, and please review! Sakai M.
Aaaand Chapter two!
Author's note: I have really updated on like...everything today. Amazing, yes? Anyway, this chapter made me cry as I wrote it. I hope you enjoy it as much as I did.
And now, Sakai Michiba presents,
Shelter
Chapter Two
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Blank woke around midday, careful not to wake the sleeping Genome beside him as he slid out of bed with a soft sigh. Checking the placement of his headband, he crept across the room and opened the door, shutting it quietly behind him as he passed into the hall. Immediately, he sensed someone right there beside him, and he froze, feeling no threat but waiting for some indication as to whom this person might be and why, exactly, he or she was staring at him.
“Blank, there you are.” Ah, it was Marcus. He should have known-only Marcus was ever sent up to wake him. “The boss made me come up here to get your lazy ass out of bed. Something wrong with you? You never sleep past nine.” The concern was evident in Marcus’ voice, and when Blank felt Marcus’ hand on his cheek, he sighed and turned away a little.
“M’fine. I don’t have a fever, Marcus. Ruby hauled her ass in there this morning and disturbed u-me. I didn’t sleep well because of the storm.” He released the doorknob, making sure it was locked before he stepped around Marcus and started down the stairs.
Marcus watched his blind friend for a moment before he paused then laughed in a playfully-mocking sort of way. “You almost said ‘us!’ Who d’you got in there, bro? Is she good in bed?” he called, watching as Blank paused on the stairs. He knew that stance-Blank was pissed.
“Shut up, Marcus. Don’t go in there, okay? I know you know how to trip my lock, and you’d go in there and fuck everything up. The last thing I need is for someone to move my stuff...” He resumed motion, making his way down the stairs and into the kitchen. He was breathing hard-that encounter with Marcus had been trying on him, and he hoped that Marcus would, for once, listen to what he had said.
As he strolled into the kitchen, he felt a huge hand clamp down on his shoulder, and he gazed at the floor, waiting for the explosion he knew would be coming. To his shock though, he merely felt the boss let him go, though he did not lift his head again. “Somethin’ wrong with you, boy?” Baku asked in his thundering voice. Blank paused at the stove, and he turned around to face in Baku’s general direction, his mouth opening to speak.
“I...No, nothing...” he lied, the lie evident in his voice. He was concerned about Zidane and the Alexandrian guard. What would the boss do if they requested to have the place searched? Would he let them in without question? Blank had a sneaking suspicion that Baku would just laugh at them and sit back while they looked for the Genome that the rest of Tantalus assumed was not there.
Baku gave Blank a concerned look before he walked over to him and slapped the side of his head hard enough to send him flying a few feet. “You’re lyin’. Do I need to beat some sense into ya, or are you going to tell me?” This was a threat that usually worked, Baku reasoned, and though he would not hit Blank hard because he was blind, he would thump him a few times.
Blank shook his head. “Some things I gotta work out on my own,” he sighed, trying to clear his mind from the harsh blow. He had steadied himself against the counter, and as he pushed away from it, he was surprised to find that Baku did not attack him as expected. Instead, there was a very pregnant pause before Blank felt he had to break the silence. “I’m gonna go pick a few pockets or something. I need to get out of here,” he claimed, needing time to clear his head. Before Baku could warn him about the rain, Blank was out of the door and on the street, listening and feeling for the people around him.
The cool, misty air was a blessing to Blank, the moisture soothing his lungs and seeming to seep into his very soul. He always felt refreshed after walking in the rain, and as he strolled down the street, his hands flicked to the sides, hearing the dangle of watches or the chains on wallets a moment before he snatched them without the notice of their owners. He did not even take count of the things he was stealing, too caught up in his thoughts about Zidane.
He was not entirely sure that he could do this. The morning had been difficult enough, trying to keep Zidane hidden from Ruby, but how many mornings would there be after that when he had to hide the other under the blankets? How long would Baku be content before he would demand everything into the open? How long could Blank stay in that room with the man he loved more than anyone else without gushing out his emotions? His hand darted out to snatch something, but he yelped as his wrist was caught.
“Hey carrot-top, it’s unwise to steal from a thief.” The voice was low and menacing, and fear thrummed through Blank’s veins. He tried a bit to pull his hand away, but the grip on his wrist tightened so much that he whimpered. “Say you’re sorry, you little freak...”
Blank choked and whispered an apology, hoping beyond hope to be let go, but as the man grabbed his hair and jerked him closer, backing him into the railing in the Theatre District that looked over the rest of Lindblum, he felt tears rise to his eyes. “LET ME GO!” he screeched, and he struggled, feeling himself being pushed over the railing inch by inch. He had never been so terrified in his entire life as he was in that moment, and he reached for something, anything to hold onto to keep himself from falling.
His hands found the stone railing, and he clung on desperately. Being without gloves, the stone cut at his hands, and he felt blood leaking from his fingers, but he didn’t care. He started to scream, clutching the stone until he could not hold on any longer. So, this was his fate. This was how he was going to die.
He heard a yell, then, just as he was starting to slip over the edge to his death, and he felt a familiar hand grab one of his own while a battle obviously raged. “Don’t EVER mess with Tantalus!” someone snarled, and as he was hauled back up to solid ground, he reeled and fell to his knees, his stomach finally reacting and expelling its contents via his mouth onto the cobblestone. “It’s all right, Blank,” he heard whispered in his ear, and he felt his eyes roll in their sockets before he fell backward into strong arms.
Blank was not sure when he woke, but he knew that when he did indeed do so, he was not alone. There was soft breathing close to his ear, and he jumped a little, looking in that direction though he could not see. He reached a hand up to try to feel this person, only to find his hands wrapped in bandages. He panicked then-he could not feel who this person was without his sense of touch! His panic must have been evident, for two hands came up to take his. “Hey, Blank...How do you feel?”
It was Zidane. A moment of panic flashed through Blank, and he blinked behind his headband. “Z-Zidane! Do they know you’re here?” he asked, worried. He felt relieved as Zidane shook his head, and he relaxed back into the mattress, his eyes falling closed behind their curtain. “Where are we? I...ouch, my back...” He tried to get comfortable, blushing as he felt Zidane’s hands brushing over his shoulders.
“Hold still, Blank. That guy did a number on you, that’s for sure. He was huge...He ran off pretty quick, though, whenever I got down there and nearly stabbed him to death...I guess I’m lucky no one in the gang was around to see you, else my cover’d be blown...He almost sent you flying over that rail...cut your hands to PIECES, you did...He sliced you up pretty good, bro...” Blank held up his hands a little as Zidane began to unwrap them, being very gentle. A hiss parted his lips as air hit the wounds, stinging and making him whimper in pain.
“Damn it...I think there’s chunks of rock in it...I can feel it,” he whispered, and he felt his heart flutter as Zidane brought the hands close to his face for inspection. He could feel that warm breath, and he bit his lower lip, hoping that it looked as though he were in pain. “What’re you doing?”
Zidane uncorked a Remedy and helped Blank sit up, seeing the dizziness this caused in the patched boy. “I’m fixing it. When we were kids...you always fixed my boo-boos. He must have cast some sort of magic on you, because you aren’t feeling all of the pain that you should be...Drink the Remedy, okay? I know you hate them, but it’ll get rid of whatever magic he’s placed on you...It’ll hurt like hell, but I’ve got a bunch of Potions here, too.”
Blank was nervous about drinking the medicine, but Zidane was tipping it to his lips, and before he knew what was happening, the medication was pouring into his mouth and he was swallowing convulsively, choking on it as the pain came alive. EVERYWHERE hurt-he could feel cuts and bruises and gashes in his skin that should not have been there, and he tried to lean forward, the Remedy forgotten. Tears rose to his eyes, and he felt his stomach begin to churn due to the agony ripping through his every muscle, and he swooned, falling limp in Zidane’s arms.
“Okay, okay, hold on, Blank,” Zidane whispered, and he opened a Potion, hastily tipping it to Blank’s lips. “Drink, Blank...drink it...” His coaxing was hardly heard in Blank’s pain-fogged mind, but his lips opened to scream and he felt a sweet liquid poured between them. The instant healing effect caused some of the pain to diminish, and he clawed at Zidane’s shoulders once he realized that they were beneath his hands.
“More,” he rasped, and as Potion after Potion was tipped to his lips, he slowly began to calm back down. He felt the cuts on his skin mending and becoming nothing, the larger cuts needing time rather than medicine, and when he could properly breathe again, he relaxed in Zidane’s arms, where he had somehow ended up. “I...What happened?” His voice was a whisper-he hardly had strength even after the Potions.
“He must have put some sort of spell on you, because when I came out to find you, he had cut you up real bad...You were all covered in blood and screaming...I was...almost too late...” The more Zidane spoke, the more it was obvious that he was torturing himself over not being there earlier. Blank sat up and placed his healed-but-tender hand on the other’s face.
“No...Zidane, it wouldn’t have been your fault...if...you know, he’d killed me...” His voice was quiet, and he blinked a little as he felt tears fall on his fingers. “What’re you crying for, you idiot?” he growled, and his eyes widened behind their blindfold as he was abruptly embraced, a cherubic face pressed into his shoulder and gentle sobbing audible from Zidane’s lips. “Stop it, dammit. Don’t cry over something so stupid...”
“S’not stupid, Blank!” Zidane claimed as he clung tighter to the other, watching the play of his tears on the stitches between Blank’s skin grafts and his natural flesh. “You’re the only family I’ve got, bro...You’re...all I’ve got left...The rest are all dead, and...you almost were...”
Blank opened his mouth to speak, but he could not find the words to say for a few long moments. When he did, he sighed and rested his head on Zidane’s shoulder. “I’m not gonna die, Zidane,” he whispered, reaching up to let the blonde’s hair loose from its tie. He ran his fingers through those silky strands, smelling Zidane’s personal fragrance that he found so utterly addicting. “I can’t die until you do, remember? We promised...” He felt Zidane nod, and a smile touched his lips. “Stop crying, then? I’m here, I’m not dead...”
That made Zidane choke a little, and Blank pulled back to dry his tears with the bedsheets. “B-but Blank, I...I was alm-”
Blank sighed and, in a bold move on his part, leaned forward to crush their lips together in an awkward kiss. Zidane had still been talking, and as their lips joined, the blonde froze completely and stared at Blank’s headband, his hands resting, shocked into stillness, on Blank’s shoulders as the kiss slowly eased from awkward to soft and insistent. He felt Blank relax, but he was unable to do so himself due to the sheer awkwardness of this situation.
When the kiss ended, he merely stared at Blank, something welling up inside of him, needing to be said. Blank was quiet for a few moments, then he whispered, “Sorry. You were...rambling.” The embarrassment was obvious in his voice, but Zidane did not quite catch it as the words he had never, ever anticipated saying to Blank burst forth from his lips.
“What the HELL, Blank? I...thought you were d-different...”
Those words made Blank freeze as well, and he sat there, head hung. “Zidane, I...”
“You what!” Zidane did not know why he was growing angry.
Blank choked, and he shook his head, not wanting to say, but when Zidane reached out and grabbed his shoulder, looking into his face even though he could not see it, he lifted a hand to his mouth and coughed a bit. “L-love you...”
Zidane winced and got up abruptly from the bed, feeling ill as well. “Just like everyone...I can’t...have FRIENDS...Well, sorry, Blank. It’s not going to happen again! I lost Kuja; I won’t lose you, too!”
Blank had the sudden overwhelming feeling of being alone in the room, and he knew that Zidane had fled through the window. He found himself unable to move for quite some time, frozen in his horror that he had actually said what he had.
What the HELL had he been thinking?
After perhaps an hour of lying there in misery, he was overcome with firm resolution. Getting out of bed, he found all the pieces to his clothing and adorned them, hurrying out of the room after he had put his shoes on. He heard other members of Tantalus calling after him, and only did he stop when he felt the giant hands of Baku seize him and lift him up. “Where are you going, Blank?” the man roared, his surprise evident as Blank struggled to get out of his hold.
“I’m going AWAY! I gotta find Zidane!” he snapped, shock running through him as he was dropped back to the floor. He sensed Baku’s fist coming at him, and he dodged, grabbing it and pushing the Boss back hard. He could hear a collective gasp from the other members of the troupe who were nearby, but he ignored them and backed away from Baku. “Don’t try to stop me, GOD DAMN IT!”
Baku had NEVER seen Blank worked up like this before, and so he sighed and crossed his arms. “Blank, whatever fire’s found its way into your undies, I suggest you put it out if you think you’re going ANYwhere. Calm down and tell me why the he-”
“Screw this,” Blank snarled, and he ran out of the hideout, shoving over a few children as he ran past. He felt the sunlight hit him, and he kept running, calling out Zidane’s name in desperation until he could not run any longer. Slowing to a walk, he rode the air cabs to the various districts, calling Zidane’s name in misery and crying out for forgiveness.
Zidane was in the streets for three days before he could gather his thoughts again. Everywhere he went, he could hear Blank crying and calling his name, but he never stepped forward to speak with him. It was currently three in the morning, and he was hiding in the shadows, a low groan escaping him as the heavens ripped wide open and rain poured down on his head. Shivering, he began walking down the street stealthily.
What had Blank been thinking? Honestly...They were friends, not lovers. He could never be Blank’s lover, not since he had fallen in love with Kuja and watched him perish at the hands of Garnet and her guards. He was tired of falling in love, tired of being the one who always lived. He was tired of seeing people die and being powerless to stop it.
Ah, said a little voice in his mind, but you DID stop Blank’s death, didn’t you?
Zidane hugged himself in the rain, his tail dragging the ground as lightning burst overhead. He looked up and shuddered, knowing how terrified Blank would be of the thunderstorm, even if he would never say anything about it. He used to hold Blank in his arms during such times, feeling the tremors running through Blank’s body and stroking his short hair. He shook the water from his hair as best he could before he continued walking.
He realized that he was in the Industrial District as he accidentally kicked a cat that had wondered underfoot. The cat hissed at him and yowled as it ran away, and he hugged himself a bit more. He could hear someone yelling in the distance, and he did not even have to guess as to whom it was.
Why was he running, anyway? Did he really plan to spend his life like this, running from the one person who cared about him more than anyone else? He could hear his heart beating as the yelling grew closer, and as Blank stepped into that very square, unable to scream anymore, Zidane watched him whisper his name and fall to his knees, the stone cutting into them as he rested his forehead against the stone and wailed Zidane’s name in one long, low tone.
In that moment, Zidane forgot everything. He forgot the rain, Kuja, Alexandria, the quest...everything but Blank. The patched boy was bleeding from a few open wounds from the attack a few days before, shaking and weak and very obviously ill. Blank took a breath and called out Zidane’s name one last time before he lay down on the stone, sobbing in anguish. “Blank,” Zidane breathed, and he hurried forward in the darkness.
As thunder crashed, Blank gave a terrible start, though he did not sit up. Zidane hurried silently over to him, kneeling beside him and shakily reaching down to touch him. His cold hand came in contact with Blank’s natural cheek, which was burning with fever, and he felt tears rise to his eyes. “I’m here,” he whispered, leaning down to say it into Blank’s ear so the other might hear him. “I’m here, Blank...Don’t yell anymore...”
Blank was utterly still for a few moments, then he reached up to weakly touch Zidane’s hand. “Z-Zidane?” he asked quietly, trembling as he clutched that hand. “Zid-dane, is it r-really you?”
“Yeah,” Zidane whispered, and he leaned down to brush a few lingering kisses over Blank’s wet lips. “It’s me...” The effect of those words was instantaneous, and Blank reached up, wrapping his arms around Zidane’s neck and clinging to him with a death grip, not willing to let go anytime soon. Zidane felt tears dripping from his eyes as he kissed Blank there in the middle of the Industrial square in the middle of Lindblum, hands stroking that patched, flushed face as he did so. “I’m so sorry...”
Blank did not have the strength to reply, so he merely clung to Zidane, crying softly as he felt himself being lifted up. Zidane felt so guilty for causing this, and so he stumbled back to the air cab, ignoring the look the attendant gave them. “Theatre District, please,” he managed through his tears, and the attendant nodded, pulling the lever and sending them flying across the city.
As they flew, he looked down at Blank, gently drying his face a bit and leaning down to touch their lips together. “It’s okay...Damn it, Blank...Why d’you gotta love me so much?” He reached to touch the headband hiding the other’s eyes, and he started to lift it when Blank’s hand came up to stop him. “...What? S’not like I’ve never seen them before...”
Blank nodded a little and took a deep breath before he pushed up the headband himself, his eyes moving to where he thought Zidane’s were. The Genome looked down into their cloudy blue depths, seeing how bloodshot they were from, he assumed, crying. The lashes surrounding them were soaked with tears, and Zidane kissed the other’s cheeks and forehead, watching those pretty eyes squeeze shut before he pressed kisses to their lids.
“You’re so stupid,” he whispered to the silent Blank, standing up as the cab halted in their home district. “Let’s go home...”
When Zidane came through the front door of Tantalus a few minutes later, he ignored the stares the other members gave them. He heard Baku give his monstrous laugh, but he moved past him and climbed the ladder higher into the tower, carefully holding onto Blank and keeping him steady until they reached the top. Taking a right, he pushed open Blank’s door and moved into the bedroom, closing and locking the room before he sat Blank in a chair.
“You’re so...fucking...stupid,” he breathed again, voice shaky with crying as he undressed Blank. The patched boy shook his head a little and caught a few kisses from Zidane’s mouth, shaking too badly to help rid himself of the cold clothes. When he was naked, he hugged himself and shivered as Zidane stripped as well, and then he was being lifted and lay down in the warm, dry bed, Zidane’s body pressing close to his and sweet kisses passing between them.
“Wh-why?” Blank managed between kisses, gasping as Zidane moved those kisses down to his neck. “Why d-didn’t you c-come?”
“Doesn’t matter,” Zidane whispered, connecting their mouths again and wrapping his tail around Blank’s waist. He drew him closer in this way, his arms wrapped around him and legs tangling in patched legs. “God damn you for making me feel this way, Blank...” His words were soft, hardly spoken, and as Blank’s mouth opened beneath his, presumably to reply, Zidane took that chance and plunged his tongue inside, tasting him and devouring him in sheer emotion.
Blank whimpered into the kiss and arched wantonly into Zidane’s every touch. He could feel his fever burning within, but it was at the back of his mind as Zidane kissed and touched and loved him like this. He sought more, reaching for Zidane as though he was not close enough, and he moved to press closer to him as he heard the door slam open. A terrible shudder ran through him, and he clung to Zidane, who had stopped kissing him to turn around and meet their intruder.
“GWAHAHAHA! I might have known! Sorry, boys, but it appears as though neither of you is in any shape for a romp in the sheets! Blank, you’re bleeding all over the damned place.”
Blank swallowed, his senses starting to come about him again. He felt Zidane’s arms clutching him, felt their naked bodies pressed flush against one another, and he blushed fiercely. “B-Boss...I...”
“I know, Blank. C’mere.” Blank gave a sharp cry as he was torn from Zidane’s arms, and he struggled until he felt a Hi-Potion being poured between his lips. “Drink it. Zidane, you have one, too. Blanky-boy’s been keeping the whole of Lindblum up for three nights, so I promised to the regent I’d knock the both of you out when you came back...” Blank drank, feeling the effects of sleeping weed in the Hi-Potion immediately. When he was placed back between the sheets, he felt Zidane’s arms slide around him, and he turned into that touch, the last thing he felt before drifting off being Zidane’s lips pressed to his own.
Baku watched the two boys with a sigh, and once Blank was asleep, he looked to Zidane. “I figure he really taught you a lesson, eh, boy? You know you’ll still have to have a good thump from me whenever you get better...The whole troupe’s in a right state. Drink your Hi-Potion, kid. GWAHAHAHA!”
Zidane watched him weakly as he left, and he looked into Blank’s sleeping face with a soft sigh before he downed the Hi-Potion and, moments later, was sleeping just as soundly.
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Author's notes: ;.; Review! This isn't the end, by the way! We've got a long way to go!