Title: Never Let Me Go
Series: Holitsuba Gakuen
Rating: R-18 (NSFW)
Warnings: Twincest, sexual abuse
Summary: Written for this prompt over at clampkink. Everything in the compound is an imitiation of something, Fai and Yuui (and Kurogane) included. KFY AU.

So basically there are no words for the amount I have wibbled (and continue to wibble) to reikah about this fic, nor for the amount of patient she is about it.

---

---

Fai supposes that the sky, the real sky, must be grey in the early, muted hours of each day. After all, everything in the compound is an imitation of something, himself and Yuui (and Kurogane) included, and when the AI lets the first light seep into the housing decks each morning, it is always unerringly grey.

Although it’s something he wouldn’t normally be awake to see. Still, today is about as far from normal as anything will ever be, and Fai hopes that’s for all the right reasons.

(When did he start hoping for things?)

On the bed beside him, Yuui shifts and curls in his sleep, restless, suddenly. His brow draws into something far darker than he’d ever produce awake, and… Ah, Fai can see what’s causing that. The covers have gone askew, exposing warm, pale skin to chill morning air, and all the burrowing in the world won’t fix it because on the other side of the bed, the sheet is pinned fast beneath Kurogane’s (massive) arm.

Fai grins and watches his brother squirm for a minute or two – Yuui’s almost as tetchy as Kurogane when someone steals his blanket – but then he relents, leans across and tugs the sheet free, draws the covers high over that smooth (identical) shoulder. Fai is awake and can’t get back to sleep, however much he ought to, but that doesn’t matter. Yuui needs his rest, or Fai will have two grouchy (antsy) puppies on his hands, and he doesn’t want that today (can’t handle it today).

The light index has gone up again. Now Fai can clearly see the blond hair spilled across his brother’s pillow – he must’ve lost his elastic during the night because it’s loose and wild. Fai threads his fingers through the tangles, lets it slip across his skin, and marvels at how Yuui’s hair feels nothing (exactly) like his own.

Beyond him, dormant and quite still, lies Kurogane. Kurogane doesn’t move a muscle in his sleep. Fai doesn’t know exactly what happened on Nihon deck that day, when the compound went into lockdown and the air filled with smoke and screaming, but whatever it was left the man with one ear permanently cocked and reflexes like a cat (which is terribly disconcerting for such a grouchy puppy).

The official rumour on Celes deck is that somebody finally cracked.

He lets his eye run over his two companions, lazy, wanton, his fingers still stroking through his brother’s hair. Yuui is everything Fai isn’t, and Kurogane’s different again – but there’s comfort in these differences. They’re a counterbalance, a rock, something solid and real when too few things are; something to bind him when he fears he might puff away on the breeze.

His smile widens. More importantly, though, both Yuui and Kurogane make the most wonderful faces (faint, enraged) when Fai muses aloud on the mating habits of snails over breakfast.

They might be snails themselves.

No-one has breathed a word about the three of them, not the cries that echo across the surveillance system each night, not the tangle of limbs nestled in the sheets each morning. It’s surprising, in its way, when so much of their physical being (all of it) is kept under such close control; the grey-coats tut about too many sweets and not enough sleep, but this they seem happy to ignore entirely.

But then again, nobody batted an eyelid when Fai, seventeen and trembling and so desperately afraid of tomorrow, crept into his brother’s bed, let sticky-salt tears and softly brushed lips turn into something else (something always there).

The grey-coats expect it, after all. There’s always plenty of lube and condoms (and gloves and dams) in the cabinet down at the medical station, and Fai isn’t the only one taking them.

They expect it.

Because in the end, death is a scary business, and they are all simply animals in the slaughter pens, sweating, panicked; mounting indiscriminately in a fear-fuelled haze of instinct and need.

(Those bastards don’t know anything.)

Fai wonders, sometimes, whether Client F-01278 loves his brother as much as Fai loves Yuui (Kurogane).

Somewhere in the world, the real world, there are two perfectly identical hearts with two perfectly identical defects, and here, in the compound there are yet another two without.

He knows that the pieces in the good hearts were made to replace the pieces in the broken ones, that they were copied and grown and born for that very purpose – but Yuui’s heart belongs to Fai (to Kurogane) and Fai will never let anyone take it.

So today they’re breaking out.

There was never any question of whether Kurogane would come. They didn’t offer to leave him and he didn’t offer to stay. Fai has lost track of how many months since Kurogane ended up in their bed – perhaps it’s closer to a year; Yuui would know – but he knows they’ve been good months, and he knows too that he’s not willing to let anything go this time (never let me go).

---

The tall, broad (increasingly familiar) figure strode into the Celes gym, and stood fiddling with his swipe card for longer than most.

How absolutely perfect.

‘You’re supposed to run your card over the scanner, Kuro-beep!’ Fai sang.

And grinned in delight as Kurogane turned angrily toward him. ‘I told you last time, it’s Kurogane! And the damned thing doesn’t work.’ He looked around, a scowl already darkening across his face. ‘Where’s the grey-coat?’

Fai shrugged. ‘Gone somewhere.’ Kurogane huffed, short, sharp, and the blond grinned slyly, stretching himself over the barricade between the entranceway and gym proper. ‘Kuro-bun’s obvious rage issues must have frightened the poor scanner to death! It let me in straight away. Try saying ‘please’, Kuro-puu.’

‘Try shutting up!’

‘Ah, but if I don’t help, Kuro-frustrated will never complete his long, perilous journey into the gym.’

The man glared. ‘I’ll come back later – when you’re not here!’

‘Uwa, how mean!’

Fai curled his arm back around his face, sobbed into it for a second, and just when Kurogane was one foot out the door…

Click.

The auto-gate swung open. Kurogane turned back, and shot him an instantly suspicious look. ‘What are you doing? That’s supposed to be locked.’

Fai rolled his eyes and motioned for Kurogane to hurry up and come inside because he wasn’t standing there holding this gate open forever. The man finally complied, and Fai let the gate go, grinning as it slammed obnoxiously behind him.

‘The scanner isn’t working this morning, Kuro-sama. The gate’s set to manual for now.’

Kurogane grabbed for Fai’s throat (and missed).

---

Yuui is the world and Kurogane is Kurogane – but Fai is only (stupid, thoughtless, weak, empty, fake) Fai.

---

They can’t have him.

Fai slipped into the prayer room, let the door click shut behind him. He wasn’t a believer, but nobody would come now – not with dinner only minutes away – and Yuui would be some time yet. They’d called him for yet another check-up, so Fai had walked his brother to the medical station, and smiled blithely, and said he would wait so they could eat together.

He moved to the corner of the room and slumped into it; drew skinny knees to his chest, wrapped skinny arms tight about himself.

It didn’t feel nearly as good as Yuui (smooth arms and strong hands) two nights earlier.

They can’t have him.

Fai wasn't stupid. He knew what the sudden flurry of tests, the twice-daily check-ups meant for Yuui, and it wasn't fair. It wasn't fair. He was only seventeen (they were only seventeen) and his heart worked, so Client Y-01279 should die instead.

He curled tighter still, face buried in his knees and wetter with every second. He’d been holding back all day, throat tight and smiles fixed, and he’d have to hold back all night as well, so he’d cry all his tears now.

He wouldn't let Yuui see him cry. He wouldn't make Yuui worry.

‘Well, now, what’s all the tears about?’

Fai looked up, startled. He hadn’t heard the door clunk, nor the footsteps that must have brought the man into the room. And fuck, it was the compound director – a huge, solid wall of a man with greying dark hair and sharp (cruel) eyes.

But he spoke gently now, and his face slanted patiently down. Fai hiccupped and swallowed.

‘Yuui’s original is dying and… and they’re going to take his…’

He couldn’t say ‘heart’. He couldn’t finish that sentence because saying it would make it true.

‘What makes you think the original is dying?’ the man asked, careful, watching.

Fai pulled his knees tighter. ‘Because. All these tests suddenly. Everyone knows what that means. They’re getting ready.’

‘Ah,’ said the man, and then, ‘You love your brother very much, don’t you?’

Something about his tone made Fai’s skin crawl, made him think of the surveillance system in their room, of the way two nights ago, Yuui had pulled the sheet high, tried to cover them both with it as they shuddered and writhed.

The man waited. When Fai didn’t say anything, he asked, ‘If there was a way to save your brother, what would you do?’

Fai looked up at him, wiped his cuff across his cheek. ‘Save Yuui?’

The man nodded, slow, deliberate, and the expression on his face made Fai’s skin break into a sprint.

‘There are ways, you know,’ the director said casually, ‘but you'll have to do something for me.’

A way to save Yuui. It wasn’t a choice.

Yuui was the world, and no price would ever be too heavy to bear because he was Yuui, he was Yuui, and there was no-one else like him (not even Client Y-01279).

So Fai nodded. ‘Alright. What do I have to do?’ and the director smiled, sharp (cruel).

Fai did a lot for the director, after that.

---

Fai sighs, and lets his brother’s hair fall from his fingers. He’s bored now, awake and alone in the grey light, and with far too many hours still until breakfast. Yuui needs his sleep, but then, Yuui is not the only person in the bed.

A wicked grin spreads across his face, and he slithers over his brother to land on the man beside him with a none-too-careful thud!

Kurogane jerks and grunts at the sudden weight on his chest (his groin). One red eye cracks open to glare at him, and ‘What are you doing?’ he growls. ‘It’s too early.’

‘Kuro-snore seemed to be having a very nice dream.’

Wait for it.

‘I was not… I do not snore!’

Fai grins. ‘Kuro-snore wouldn’t know because he’s always asleep when it happens,’ he points out helpfully, and then cackles and clings as the man tries to throw him off.

‘Stop it, you bastard!’

‘Kuro-grump is so lazy this morning!’

Defeated at last (not that he’d ever admit it), Kurogane falls back on the pillow, and Fai feels the warm slide of a hand on his back.

‘It’s early. Go back to sleep.’

And Kurogane closes his eyes. Fai watches him for a minute, just until his breathing slows, then he shifts his legs to straddle the man’s hips and presses forward pointedly.

‘I’m bored, Kuro-sama.’

There’s a grunt. ‘Go play with the other one, then.’

Fai grinds again, slower, harder. ‘Yuui needs his sleep.’

The scowl on Kurogane’s face does little to hide the growing flush in his cheeks, even if he is still protesting. ‘I need sleep too!’

Fai’s smile pulls ever wider. It doesn’t matter if Kurogane still has his eyes firmly shut – he knows Kurogane will be able to hear it, and that’s satisfaction enough. ‘Kuro-wan needs playtime before breakfast or he’ll be far too grumpy.’

And Fai rolls to the side a bit, lowers his hand and wraps his fingers around Kurogane’s cock.

The man shivers and jumps, and Fai’s already smirking his triumph when those red eyes snap open. There’s something in them, though, when Kurogane meets his gaze; Fai doesn’t know what it is, but it makes his stomach flop and twist, makes his heart swell and burst, and when he leans forward, presses his lips to Kurogane’s, it makes him hum with pleasure.

(It makes him happy.)

They lie there, kissing lazily, Fai stroking Kurogane until he’s gasping (moaning). His own erection is flush between their bodies, and at last he moves so he can grip them both at once. It means breaking their lips, at that angle, but they both come quickly, and then Kurogane’s pulling him close again for another sloppy kiss.

‘Looks like I missed all the fun,’ says a sleepy voice from Fai’s left. He looks up to see Yuui watching them, eyes soft and lips smiling.

He grins back, and leans rather awkwardly across to catch his brother’s mouth. There’s still a trace of Kurogane on his lips when they meet, and then Yuui’s tongue slips inside, sends sparks down his spine.

It makes him happy.

---

The grey-coats are very keen on the word ‘probability’. It’s everywhere in the compound, from cradle to… well. From cradle.

(That other word doesn’t exist.)

‘There is a very high probability that you will live out your life to its natural end. A very small percentage of people in the outside world require donation.’

Though ‘donation’ rather implies choice, and ‘probability’ doesn’t equal ‘guarantee’.

---

‘Yuui heard a rumour about Kuro-ru today.’

That got his attention.

Fai grinned as Kurogane stiffened, chopsticks halfway to his mouth, and cast a wary look at his twin across the table. His twin, who, in return, offered a little smile that gave nothing away – because Fai was telling the story, not Yuui – and carried on buttering his dinner roll.

Fai gulped down his laughter. The pair of them were too precious, really! (Precious.)

After a few seconds, Kurogane said, ‘Don’t care,’ and then the chopsticks were moving again.

Well, that would never do.

‘Uwa! Yuui, Kuroriginal does something like that and Kuro-clone won’t even talk about it.’

Fai’s face was appropriately scandalised, and, ah, there was the twitch he’d been after. Kurogane swallowed and glared. ‘What about that guy?’

Much better. Scandal dropped away, replaced by naked (unabashed) anticipation. Fai nudged his brother: ‘Tell him, Yuui.’

Kurogane’s glare tracked left (and softened).

Yuui paused, face smooth, calm, and then, ‘I met another survivor from Nihon deck today.’ Kurogane grunted. ‘She said that your original lost an arm a couple of years back, but that… well.’

Well. Kurogane’s two arms spoke for themselves, rice bowl in his left and chopsticks in his right (twitching like pincers).

The man looked away, a scowl sprawling across his face in rapid time. ‘Tche! So?’

‘Kuroriginal must be very kind,’ Fai crooned, smile stretching in proportion with the darkening of Kurogane’s face. ‘Just like Kuro-clone.’

Cue outrage: ‘Don’t call me that, you bastard!’

‘Kuro-clone, Kuro-clone!’

‘Shut up!’

‘Anyway,’ said Yuui, pulling Fai back into his seat and smoothing down his shirt, ‘that’s what I heard.’

Silence settled over the table. Fai suddenly wished he’d chosen the lasagne after all, because Yuui’s smelled rather good, and Yuui was offering to swap with him when Kurogane sighed, short, sharp, and lowered his chopsticks (pincers).

‘That guy made his own decisions. It’s got nothing to do with me. I’ll make my own decisions too.’

He glared roundly at both of them, and a smile slipped across Yuui’s face (and it gave everything away).

Fai laughed and said, ‘Kuroriginal and Kuro-sama really are the same, just like Yuui and me.’

And Kurogane huffed. ‘Idiot. You two aren’t anything alike.’

---

The note Fai found in the (their) room was short and to the point.

‘Get to the truck in the Celes loading dock at 3pm Tuesday, and someone will come to take you away.’

Fai’s heart had squeezed wonderfully (horribly) tight.

Later, before bed, he sparkled (impossibly bright) as Kurogane scowled and Yuui frowned at the anonymous scrap of paper.

‘We don’t even know who it’s from, Fai,’ Yuui said, carefully watching his twin’s face. ‘It could be something dangerous.’

Fai blinked. ‘More dangerous than being kept in a cage for our body parts?’

Yuui’s frown pulled tighter, and he looked away.

Kurogane’s eyes flicked from one blond head to the other before he said, ‘If this is your idea of a joke, moron –’

‘It’s not,’ and Fai was floating too high to tease or even care about the tense look Yuui shared with Kurogane when they thought he wasn’t looking.

Well, after all, they didn’t know what Fai knew.

Fai had paid the price, and it was time to collect. They didn’t need to know, they never needed to know, but Fai had paid and it was time to collect.

He had paid, and soon he would never have to think about it again (ever again).

The best part was that he wouldn’t even need to convince them.

He grinned, and pulled his shirt over his head, necklace jangling against his bared skin. ‘Well, I’m going,’ he said, daring them to deny him.

And Kurogane huffed and Yuui sighed, and that was that.

---

‘Oh, there you are.’ Yuui turned as Fai slipped into their room, pale hands caught in a tea towel. ‘I was beginning to think you’d forgotten.’

Fai sniffed the air. Something sweet wafted across to him, made his mouth water (made him forget other things). ‘Nope!’ he said, ‘I’ve been looking forward to this all day. Yuui’s sweets are better than anything.’ He thought for a minute. ‘Well, almost anything.’

Yuui raised an eyebrow. Fai shuffled forward suggestively, his smile bright (blinding). ‘Although it seems unfair to call a winner without a proper comparison.’

Faint colour rose in Yuui’s cheeks, and his eyes were soft, warm, when he leaned forward and pressed his lips to Fai’s, slid his fingers into Fai’s loose hair, prickled gooseflesh down his back.

Fai closed his eyes and forgot the world, forgot everything in it except Yuui.

Then, ‘You smell soapy.’

Fai opened his eyes again and grinned. ‘Mmm. The grey-coat said I need to do more aerobic stuff, so I went on the treadmill after the session, and then I got all sweaty…’

Yuui frowned. ‘Right.’

Fai could practically hear the cogs grinding in his brother’s brain.

He kept quiet as Yuui moved to the cupboard, began pulling out cups and plates, and then, ‘How long do you have to keep having all these private sessions, anyway?’ his twin said: there was a hint of steel to it. ‘It feels like it’s been going on forever.’

He shrugged. ‘As long as they say, I guess. I think it’s some kind of long-term study or something.’

‘Nobody said anything about it to me.’

Fai glanced up, eyes bright against the easy smile. ‘Well, you know I wasn’t supposed to tell you either. I only did because it’s you.’

Yuui pursed his lips, and Fai had to laugh. Honestly! Yuui always worried about the most unnecessary things.

Still chuckling, ‘Yuui, it’s fine,’ and then, spotting the plate of freshly baked cakes, ‘Oooh, Yuui made madeleines!’

His brother hesitated, and then nodded, smiled, and Fai would never have enough of that smile. ‘Shall we have tea, then?’

And Fai grinned. ‘Yep! Let’s!’

The conversation moved on to other things: there was a new ice-cream churn in the cooking room, and Yuui had promised to help Sakura and Syaoran (blushing horribly whenever the girl smiled at him) make some desserts the following week. He’d given them each one of the delicate, scalloped madeleines before he left; they seemed such sweet kids, he said.

Fai watched Yuui fill the teapot from the hot water system in their tiny kitchenette, and sneaked his first cake.

‘I can see you doing that, you know,’ said Yuui, coming across to sit at the equally tiny table. ‘You need to watch your sugar, Fai.’

His twin pouted back at him. ‘You sound like the grey-coats.’

‘Well, that’s the reason for all these private sessions, isn’t it?’ and of course it had come back to that. Fai crumbled the madeleine on his plate while Yuui poured the tea. ‘They’re always warning you about sweets. Maybe if you cut back a bit…’

Maybe if you cut back a bit, you wouldn’t have to disappear so often and there wouldn’t be so many horrid little secrets between us.

Fai grinned lazily. ‘But Yuui’s sweets are too delicious. I can’t resist.’

Dryly: ‘Maybe I should stop making them, then.’

And Fai gaped, because surely that would be some sort of hate crime, wouldn’t it, against the sweet-toothed? ‘Yuui wouldn’t do that.’

‘I might.’

Ah. Yuui was in one of those moods. Fai leaned across the table, touched his brother’s arm, and met those worried (identical) blue eyes.

‘Yuui, it’s fine. I’ve been going to these things for… (No, don’t think about how long) ..ages, and nothing’s happened. It’s fine.’

Yuui’s hand folded over his own, smooth and strong. ‘How can you be sure? Anyway, a few years ago when they did all those tests on me, you freaked out completely, so what’s the difference?’

Fai blinked. ‘I didn’t freak out.’

A gentle smile. ‘Yes, you did.’

‘Well, that was different.’ Mumbled against the teacup.

‘Why? They did all those tests, and nothing ever happened. It was just because I’d had a temperature for a few days.’

Fai stared at the madeleines, neatly arranged on one of the plates Yuui had made himself. There were five left – two each, and then Yuui would probably let him have the extra one. ‘It wasn’t just the temperature.’

He could hear the shadow in his own voice and cursed it when Yuui frowned. ‘What do you mean?’

And Fai looked up, torn, desperate to share with his twin, desperate for them to be the same again (though Yuui must never do the things Fai has done). ‘Those twins, out there – there’s something wrong with their hearts.’

Silence, and then, ‘How do you know?’

He shrugged. ‘Someone told me.’

Persistence. ‘Who?’

Yuui was the world, but Fai was only Fai. Yuui mustn’t ever find out because Yuui didn’t need to know.

He moved back abruptly, pulled another cake from the plate, and then, with the air of one who has been caught out, ‘OK, nobody told me. I swiped the medical file earlier when the grey-coat left to get something.’ (Another horrid little lie.)

‘Oh.’ And Yuui had gone pale. ‘Oh. What did it say?’

‘That they have a defect. It’s… it’s not genetic, they developed that way – that’s why we don’t have it. And they’re never going to get better. One day, they’ll…’

He popped a bit of cake in his mouth and chewed. There was really no need to finish the sentence.

Yuui looked down into his tea, brow tightening, mouth pressed to nothing. Oh, dear. Fai swallowed his cake and reached out, threaded bony fingers through bony fingers. His brother glanced up again, and managed a smile – but it wasn’t a very good one.

Fai’s was much better. ‘Don’t worry,’ he said airily, ‘nothing’s going to happen.’

But Yuui just looked at him, quiet, unhappy, and so Fai dragged his chair closer, brought his free hand up to cup his brother’s face, brought his lips forward to kiss his brother’s mouth.

‘Nothing’s going to happen,’ he said when he pulled away, and it felt good, being able to say it, being able to tell the truth and not one of the hundred-odd shining little lies between them now.

Fai had made a deal, and nothing was going to happen.

(Yuui let him have the extra madeleine.)

After tea, Yuui went to the music room, and Fai went with him (like always), fingers curling together, warm and smooth and so utterly familiar.

Yuui was the world and no price would ever be too heavy to bear.

He lay on the floor, limbs loose and sprawling, head spinning slightly when he tilted it back to watch the figure at the piano. There was a bit of shuffling about as Yuui found his place in the book, and then, as the first mournful notes of Sibelius drifted over him, Fai let his eyes close, let his mind fade to nothing.

Yuui was the world, but Fai was only Fai and it didn’t matter.

The silence, when it came, was cold and abrupt.

‘Fai?’

Yuui’s voice pulled him back from the edge of sleep, made him sit up and look around. His twin was still seated at the piano, his back to Fai, but he’d pulled both hands back into his lap, and he was slumped, curled into himself.

Fai frowned and stood up.

‘What’s the matter?’ he said, and then, when he drew level with the piano stool, when Yuui looked up at him with creased brow and desperate eyes, he said more insistently, ‘Yuui! What’s wrong?’

There wasn’t enough room for them both on the stool, not really (not since they were eleven) but Fai squeezed onto the edge anyway, wrapped an arm around his brother, pressed them close together.

Yuui said, very slowly, ‘I… need you to promise me something, OK, Fai?’

He blinked. ‘What?’

‘Just promise me.’

Fai looked down at the piano, at the places where Yuui’s fingers had moved only moments earlier, coaxing the sublime from wood and hammers. ‘Not until you tell me what.’

When no answer was forthcoming, he looked up again. Yuui was grey and silent and miserable, and Fai’s stomach clenched because he didn’t know what was wrong and he didn’t know how to fix it (Yuui always fixed everything).

The skin over Yuui’s throat quivered and dipped as he swallowed.

‘Listen,’ he said at last, and Fai was listening, ‘sooner or later they’re going to need one of our hearts –’

Oh, that. Fai shook his head. ‘No, they won’t –’

‘Yes, they will,’ and it was sharper that time. Fai closed his mouth. Yuui’s slim, strong hand reached across and took his (identical) own, and when he spoke again, his voice was softer (tireder). ‘They will, Fai. You can’t just laugh and say it’s never going to happen. Not this time.’

(Just when did Yuui start seeing through the laughter?)

A thumb stroked back and forth over Fai’s hand. ‘So, I want you to promise me.’

Fai didn’t need to promise. There was no need for promises because Fai had made a deal, and nothing was going to happen.

‘What?’ he said.

Yuui stared down at their clasped hands. ‘When it happens, let me do it.’ Fai must’ve gasped, because he heard the sound of it in his own ears, and his brother finally looked up. ‘Our hearts are the same and it doesn’t matter which they take, so I’m going to do it.’

Nothing was going to happen, but…

‘Yuui, no!’ The words burst out of Fai, and his other hand slid from Yuui’s waist to his shoulder, to shake him, to tell him not to be stupid. ‘I don’t want you to!’

‘I can’t live without you.’ Just that: simple, quiet. Yuui gazed back at him, his blue eyes so wretchedly sad. ‘Please don’t make me.’

Fai shook his head. ‘I can’t live without you either!’

‘Yes, you can,’ and the steel was back in his brother’s voice. ‘You’re not like me, Fai.’

No.

‘Yes, I am,’ Fai said, no, insisted. ‘Yes, I am. We’re the same, and we’ve always been the same.’

He slid onto his brother’s lap (now there was plenty of room for two) and kissed him hard, desperate; bruised his lips, clutched his (identical) shoulders, back, face. Yuui clung just as hard, hands shoved into Fai’s clothing and gripping him, holding him, trembling against his skin.

Yuui’s mouth moved against his ear, breath hot and fast. ‘Promise me.’

And Fai grinned and licked the salt from his brother’s cheek. ‘I promise you’ll never be alone.’

Nothing was going to happen. Yuui was the world and Fai had made a deal, and it was fine.

Their lips met over and over, heavy, breathless kisses as the afternoon faded away, and Fai drowned gladly in Yuui.

---

It takes about ten minutes to get from Fai and Yuui (and Kurogane)’s room on Celes deck to the small office in the Restricted Zone that will be their portal to the outside world (a special door).

They’ve decided to give themselves thirty.

It’s years since Fai and Yuui frequented the hallways of the RZ, since a senior grey-coat felt sorry for two skinny, anxious boys (brothers) and gave them a special swipe card so they could visit him whenever they liked.

Then Ashura was transferred, quite suddenly, and no-one ever asked (knew) about the card. Fai wouldn’t have thought it still worked, but then, perhaps it’s been re-activated. He’s paid for it, after all.

The hours leading to three o’clock pass more slowly (more quickly) than any others of Fai’s entire life.

---

A reminder to all Celes residents that ballroom dancing instruction commences in 15 minutes in the recreation room. Repeat…’

‘Do you want to go?’

‘Ah, only if I get to dance with Yuui.’

(a smile) ‘Let’s go, then.’

---

The visitor with the long dark hair stopped abruptly, struck by something on the other side of the classroom. He turned to the man beside him, brows arching delicately.

‘You’re raising two identical donors concurrently? Surely that contravenes the Act.’

His guide frowned, following the man’s line of vision, and then, ‘Ah. F-01278 and Y-01279. They’re a special case.’

The visitor remained cold. ‘How so?’

‘For various reasons that are not appropriate to discuss here,’ the guide said, smiling, his eyes sharp (cruel). ‘I can take you through their full history in my office later.’

The visitor frowned, but said, ‘Fine,’ and turned back to survey the two boys; they were busy cutting out paper shapes at one of the desks, slightly removed from the boisterous play around them. ‘How do they relate to one another?’ he asked quietly.

The guide nodded, adjusted his monocle. ‘Very well. We’ve maintained the twin dynamic from the very beginning, and they’re extremely attached to one another.’

The visitor saw one small, pale hand clasp the other briefly. ‘And the other children?’

The guide hesitated. ‘Less well, admittedly,’ he said, ‘but that may simply be because many of the children have no real concept of siblings. They cannot relate because they do not fully understand yet.’

‘I see.’ The visitor watched the children a minute longer, and then said, ‘I’d like to meet them.’

And the director bowed slightly. ‘Of course, Ashura.’

---

Fai grinned and pushed Yuui back onto the wooden bench, hair hanging forward as he licked a trickle of sweat from his twin’s forehead.

Yuui laughed and made a face. ‘Fai!’

And Fai laughed too. ‘I’ve wanted to do this in here for ages,’ he confided, low and throaty against Yuui’s ear.

His hand moved to the towel wrapped around his brother’s waist, and at that, Yuui frowned, struggling to sit up. ‘Do what, exactly?’ he asked cautiously.

Fai smiled and crawled forward, forcing him flat again. ‘Yuui always looks so sexy in the sauna,’ and his brother’s cheeks, already pink and warm, went pinker still. The brief moment of distraction was all Fai needed to flip open his twin’s towel, and then he was sliding towards the floor.

Yuui startled again. ‘Fai, someone might come!’ he said, breathless in the heat, and Fai supposed his hand around Yuui’s half-erect cock wasn’t helping. He pumped slowly, smirking as it stiffened further in his grasp, and, ‘Someone is definitely going to come.’

‘Fai…’ It was the barest of moans.

Well, that sounded like encouragement. Fai moved a hand to Yuui’s hip, and lowered his mouth over the head of Yuui’s erection.

For a while there was nothing but the wet sound of Fai’s lips and tongue as he worked, sucking and licking (and teasing), and Yuui’s faint whimpered cries – but it wasn’t long before his brother tensed, in that way Fai knew so well, and then Fai let him thrust upwards, taking him in, swallowing steadily as Yuui came in his mouth.

Fai slid his lips slowly upwards, enjoying the shudder and jerk of Yuui above him, and grinned at his twin’s flushed, dazed face.

‘Told you someone would come,’ he purred, and Yuui smiled weakly and started to say something when the door slammed open.

Fai supposed they made quite a picture: Yuui panting and bare, and himself still between his brother’s thighs, fondling his softening cock.

The man in the doorway went an interesting shade of red, but rather surprisingly, didn’t trip over his own backside in an effort to get away from the debauchery. Instead he folded his (massive) arms across his chest and glared.

‘Are you done?’ he growled. ‘This is a public space.’

He reminded Fai of one of the puppies that had been part of the enrichment program way back on nursery deck – the sleek black-and-tan one that had growled (in absolute terror) whenever something white and fluffy play-bowed to him.

‘So much for no-one coming,’ muttered Yuui, an altogether different (though still very interesting) shade of red, scooting away and grabbing for his towel.

Fai stretched on the floor and smiled lazily. ‘No,’ he said, letting his eyes wander over the man’s chest – just how red would he go? – ‘I definitely said that someone would come.’

Yuui groaned, made to stand, and Fai tugged him back. ‘I’m not ready to leave yet,’ he said, the pout lurking just out of sight. Yuui looked at him for a moment, brow furrowed, but then he relented and eased back on the bench.

The man was still standing in the doorway.

‘Grumpy puppy should sit down,’ Fai said airily. ‘He’s letting all the heat out.’

And the man choked, his face contorted by total (intoxicating) rage. ‘My name is Kurogane!’

---

Yuui is the world and Kurogane is Kurogane – but Fai will only ever be Fai.

---

‘What the hell is that?’

Fai blinks, and follows Kurogane’s line of vision down to the small plush white thing wedged into his pocket. Ah, that. ‘Kuro-sama knows perfectly well what that is,’ he chides, wagging a finger. ‘He tosses it out of bed every morning.’

And then he holds up the toy, and in an octave higher than his own, says, ‘Kuro-puu is so cruel!’

Fai grins widely, and even Yuui, pale and tense, has to allow a smile for that.

Kurogane glares. ‘I mean why the hell do you have it now? You’re not bringing that thing with us.’

Fai stares at him, mouth hanging open before, ‘Of course I’m bringing Mokona, Kuro-puu!’ he cries. ‘Mokona is Mokona! We’ve had Mokona since forever!’

‘Well,’ Yuui says thoughtfully, ‘technically I have. You lost yours, remember?’

‘Ah, that’s right. The black one.’

Kurogane huffs. ‘And what stupid name did you give yours?’

Two pairs of bemused blue eyes stare up at him. ‘Mokona, of course, Kuro-silly,’ says Fai at last, because what else would he have called it?

Kurogane turns away, grumbling under his breath, and Fai can’t stop the smile sliding across his face. He takes a step closer – carefully, because the man can always hear him coming – and then quick as a flash, darts an arm out, makes a grab for something inside Kurogane’s jacket.

‘Oi!’

‘Besides,’ sings Fai, dancing away with his prize (while Kurogane lunges and misses), ‘Kuro-grump is bringing his toys, so why can’t we?’

‘Ginryuu is not a toy, idiot!’

‘Kuro-sama’s dragon is so pretty!’

‘Bastard!’

Eventually Yuui gets tired of playing human shield for his brother, and Fai relinquishes the tiny pewter statue. Kurogane tucks it carefully back inside his jacket pocket, and Yuui reaches up, straightens the taller man’s collar after his tussle.

‘That’s better,’ he says, voice warm and soft, and when Fai looks over, his brother’s face is the same. ‘You know, you never told us where you got Ginryuu.’

The blush across Kurogane’s face is a picture all in itself. ‘Someone on Nihon gave it to me,’ he mutters, and then his cheeks turn redder still at Yuui’s gentle smile.

(It makes him happy.)

Fai pushes Mokona back into his pocket, and claps his hands together. ‘What time is it?’

The tension in the room swells palpably.

Yuui checks his watch, face tightening, and gives a small nod. ‘Almost time to go,’ he says, and glances around one more time. They’ve lived in this room since they moved to Celes, ten years or thereabouts, since they grew too old and tall for the nursery deck and were transferred out. This room is full of their things – Fai’s sketches and Yuui’s pottery (and Kurogane’s wood carvings) – but Fai is taking the things that matter most, and that’s enough for him.

(Mokona is in his pocket, after all.)

He grins. ‘Last bathroom stop until the savagery of the outside world,’ he announces, and watches as Kurogane scowls and Yuui’s brows draw tighter. Well, for a minute, anyway. Then his brother’s face is uncertain; he bites his lip and, ‘Actually, I’d better… Be right back.’

Fai leans closer. ‘Do you need help?’

‘No!’

The clunk of the lock emphasises his position.

Which is just as well, really, because Fai needs to say something to Kurogane, something private; something that Yuui should not hear.

‘Kuro-sama,’ and he sidles closer. Kurogane glances down. ‘You’ll look after Yuui today, won’t you?’

Predictably, the gaze sharpens at once. ‘Idiot. What are you planning?’ the man says, and, oh, how quickly the filthy accusations fly!

Fai holds up a hand, still smiling. ‘I’m not planning anything, Kuro-wan,’ and it’s true, because he’s not – but when did life ever go according to plan, even in this temple to calculation and order? ‘But if something happens, I want you to take care of him.’

Kurogane’s gaze doesn’t falter. ‘And who’s taking care of you, then?’

‘Ah, Kuro-rin is worried about me!’ It’s so adorable, he has to reach up and squeeze Kurogane’s cheeks, and then the larger man is exhaling sharply and batting him off.

‘Bastard!’ he growls, but as the toilet flushes faintly, he grabs Fai by the necklace (how did that happen?), red eyes narrowed and quick. ‘Look after him yourself.’

(Kurogane’s fingers trace the line of Fai’s throat before he lets him go.)

‘Are we ready?’ says Yuui, emerging, calmer now (but still pale).

‘Ready,’ says Kurogane, and shoves Fai towards the door. ‘Let’s go.’

And now they’re going. Off into the unknown.


END PART ONE

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