Come As You Are
4th March 2006

Forward Note: Written because i miss Bal.

"Blown in from the cold once again, old friend?" Kuja smiled, his hand hovering over a row of cigars before selecting a deep burgundy pair.
"Your palace has not been renowned for it's warmth in the past." Bal stood at the study's door, watching as the smaller man came to him. Kuja left barely a breath between them as he offered the cigar to Bal's lips, his other hand lighting a flame with his eyes dancing to a reflective spark.
“Does that mean you've missed my icy touch?” But before Bal could or would reply Kuja continued, shaking off the chill as he seemed in proper gaiety. “Besides, after your wedding, the wedding I'm organising mind you, this place will go down in history!”
“For good reasons I take it.” Bal said nonchalantly, taking the cigar and lighting it himself.
“Indeed.” Kuja replied, humour in his eyes as he watched the simple act. But as Bal's eyes came back up they unwillingly glanced past those unwavering prayful like ones, as if there was always something prosperous to the little man. He moved past the other, taking his weary limbs to the alcohol on the desk.
“So when's the wedding?” Bal asked.
“Tomorrow.” Kuja was already smiling happily to confirm the situation as Bal stared back. “Well you're here, are you not? Which means tonight is a congregation for us gents. Only nobody else could make it due to receiving their invitations a few hours too late.”

Bal took a swig of the bottle, brandy soothing down. It sometimes took him a while to remember why he came to visit Kuja, and then grudgingly he would remember and bite the bullet. His spirit had been crushed so long ago, why should it matter now. He leaned his arse down on the table as Kuja approached him again, his shoulder touching his as the slender man picked up some parchment on the desk.

"So i've decided to have the wedding inside." Kuja said, plonking his bum next to Bal's as he held out the wide parchment. Bal didn't even bother remarking that the page was blank. "Have it in a long room for a knighting ceremony appeal, or perhaps in the theatre! It would be wonderfully staged there." He grinned, throwing the paper to the floor as his lips slid up to Bal's ear. "And tonight shall be held in my room."

Bal merely took another swig of the brandy. Every word the other said seemed to make him more weary. He looked at the bottle where Kuja knew what he was thinking.

"The only poison you've drunk is from the lips of Drucilla."

"That's very cold." Bal said, looking at Kuja now who had his hand over his lips. Kuja's grin curled out as so did his hand as he held it in a manner of 'I confess'.

"Apologies, old friend. But..."

"But?" Bal raised an eye brow ever so slightly. He had not heard Kuja fall from a sentence for years.

"But nothing, Bal." Kuja tried to say more, but the words wouldn't come out.

Bal watched him impassively. Kuja's eyes were even on the floor. Was he angry? About to lash out in another violent wave? Another tantrum... He drowned the rest of the bottle with ease before placing it back on the table. It didn't take a genius to figure out what Kuja was really feeling, though Bal had to admit that he thought he was still just second best to Desora, or maybe even fiftieth best for all he knew.

"It's ok, Kuja."

Bal's comfort was said so casually as Kuja's eyes widened. The words repeated in Kuja's head. He wanted to call Bal an idiot. What was ok? How was this O.K? How could Bal love someone else more than him? Kuja's hands clenched together tightly in his lap, knuckles a ghostly pale before he slowly cupped his hands open. Bal's soul shone dimly from the little vial, and it was Bal's turn for his eyes to widen.

"I returned a fake, isn't that funny?" Kuja laughed. "I must have accidentally left the real one in my possession. How clumsy."

Bal tried to reach for it but a force winded him from the back, sending him to his hands and knees on the floor. Kuja laughed more incessantly as Bal climbed to his feet, struggling with the lack of air. He wanted to strangle the life out of Kuja, started to wish he had done it a long time ago.

"But you love me, Bal. You bit the bullet for it." Kuja smirked. Bal frowned. And there they would proceed to brawl. BAM! POW! Only it wasn't much of a brawl with Kuja's powers surpassing Bal's (to Bal's dismay and shock ^^).

"Comfortable?" Kuja asked in a sincere tone. He hadn't moved from his position on the desk where as Bal ended up in a sliced up state, unable to move from his position on the floor, flat on his stomach, cheek pressed into the oak. Invisible knives sliced his skin, idly cutting at his bare back. But he felt nothing, only wanting his soul back. If it was in Kuja's possession he would never be able to marry Drucilla.

"What do you want, Kuja?" He asked the obligatory question. The question Kuja hated answering.

He said nothing, and Bal could feel his life draining from him, an emptiness, a hollowness, a coldness taking over.

"KUJA!!!"

Kuja could hear Bal with all his heart, his pain, his thoughts, his anger, his potato. And Bal's thinking WTF mate. Since when was Kuja EVER powerful enough to take the life of a god?

"Good thought. You see... you have always been a role model of mine. And before you, there was Xin to squash me down. Drucilla from time to time as well... Sassan and now Kaijou... do you see my problem? Even nobody's off the street would give me a hard time. And the result of this..."

"Spare me the life story."

"But it's your life too. You made me. Who taught me to steal souls? Who showed me things through fists rather than words? And even then your words turned to black mail."

"What are you talking about?"

"You! Don't you even remember? And the weight always landed upon me. "Kuja, stop it. Kuja, don't do that. Kuja, blah blah blah!" While they all look with sympathetic eyes to you, eyes of trust. Balthameul, the good, the honest, the kind, the fun, the whatever. Do you remember asking me if i thought you were a monster? If i understood everything that was going on, the man that you are, i would gladly have said yes... but i was too stupid."

"I've never deceived you, Kuja. I never meant to be a bad friend... you were the one... that made me feel like i belonged somewhere again."

Kuja stopped the life draining.

"Now are those words of a man that cares, or of a man trying to survive?" Kuja said smiling.

"Both." Bal replied before he continued taking his shallow breaths. He didn't know what to be more weary of; Kuja's seemingly endless power, or the fact Kuja was going to kill him. His energy came back soon enough, though he remained on the floor as his wounds healed themselves over. He needed a holiday again... would this be the fourth time Kuja has enslaved him now?

"Tell me, Kuja... do you even know why you keep doing this?"

"Doing what?"

"Shall i start calling you my master once more?" Bal said bitterly

"No." Is all Kuja replied.

"Then this is about Drucilla?"

"Well you've lain in my bed more times than hers. And that's not saying much." Kuja said, looking away.

Bal looked up, seeing Kuja with that upset frown.

"You shouldn't pout, Kuja..." Bal said. And as Kuja glared at him he finished with "... it's unmanly."

The two stared at each other a while before both chorusing off into hearty laughter. Kuja could almost cry from hearing Bal repeat those words he said so many years ago and Bal could almost weep for feeling a part of his old friend back.

"You were such a pain." Kuja said with an XD face

"Was only trying to level with you, tight arse." XD

IT WAS ALL A DREAM. (couldn't think of a better way to elude to this way or that). Kuja's sleeping hands reached out for Vere, who was lying uncomfortably beside him. But he did nothing as Kuja snaked his arms around him and tried to burry his way into his arm pit.

As Kuja dreamt his out of continuity dream, the reality still stood that he couldn't remember why he was so upset half the time, he couldn't remember why he felt guilty or angry at Bal in the past... but it all slowly squirmed together as his subconscious formed a logical woven tapestry of a past without Desora.

Meanwhile, i doubt Kuja and Bal would laugh like that again. Neither of them will be honest, or if Bal is, Kuja probably wont, which will lead to more violent ends. And i wouldn't be surprised if Bal was out for Ku's blood at this point... or maybe he's turned into a cold statue somewhere. I miss his old forgiving self.. the self where he could always laugh off a matter, joke about it or something =(

Vere sighed with Kuja sleeping against him. He wouldn't be surprised if Kuja was doing this on purpose. But at least this night his hosts flesh didn't cling to bone as he slept... for a brief moment he wondered what was working in that twisted mental brain. Tried to imagine Kuja's past... but his imagination for Kuja was limited to a man with only taste for malevolence and sadism his whole life through.

He leaned over Kuja, careful not to wake him as he slipped an arm around his shoulders, and reached to stub out the cigar Kuja had lit long ago. And he didn't even smoke any of it, Vere thought as he lay back down, content enough to fall asleep with Kuja in his arms.