Kingdom Hearts Kink Meme
KINGDOM HEARTS KINK MEME
Indexed at kh-kinkmeme
and on delicious here
Rules:
1. Post a pairing plus a kink.
1a. One request per comment.
1b. The only kink not allowed on this meme is anything involving underage sex. What I mean by this is if, either in the request or fic, it is made clear (either by stating a number or giving a physical description) that ( Read more... )
Indexed at kh-kinkmeme
and on delicious here
Rules:
1. Post a pairing plus a kink.
1a. One request per comment.
1b. The only kink not allowed on this meme is anything involving underage sex. What I mean by this is if, either in the request or fic, it is made clear (either by stating a number or giving a physical description) that ( Read more... )
The smell of decaying flesh and wood surrounds them, creating hideous smog of the murderous activity that occurred just moments ago. The entire castle had crumbled-the towers were nothing but rubble at the base. The roof had caved in. Around the wounded pair, the remaining swells of fire cackles mockingly at the deaths that they had caused. Beyond the golden glow of embers, Axel can make out the gems past the smoke and clouds that clung to the navy sheet of night.
Blond hair drapes in front of azure eyes and clings to the sweating skin of his face. The beautiful, boyish face stares down at him, eyes looking like they were struggling to keep down any signs of concern or worry. Scarlet beads drip from his brow, temple, and jaw, forming scales on the burnt flesh of his neck.
It hurts to laugh, Axel notices. His lungs feel tons heavier than usual-he is sure his ribs had already given up, bones piercing into his muscle and heart in the most gruesome of ways. If it isn’t from physical collapse, then it is probably from the claws that had dug themselves into his chest, his back, his thighs, and his arms. If that isn’t the reason, then the fire that had surrounded them had already charred his being beyond saving. He can’t decide, but regardless, Roxas is safe. The boy is alive, vigor and energy still running freely through those ocean eyes.
As Roxas screams demands of ‘why? Why did you do that? Why the fuck would you do that?’, Axel struggles to calm his desire to laugh and say to him ‘it’s nothing-I don’t die all that easily, got it memorized?’. Even without speaking the words, It’s like lies upon lies in his mind, oozing from his pores, hot, viscous, and as obvious as the blood that stain his body. A hand unlatches from the cross center of his chakrams. The heat of the flames had burned through his gloves, and his hand shakes as it reaches up to touch the younger’s face. The swollen fingers twitch unintentionally, scratching the flesh of the cheeks. Through his blackening vision, he notices Roxas flinch at the rough touch, only to lean in to the warmth of his fingers with a sharp intake of breath.
He wants to tell him ‘don’t cry’, but it’s too late. Roxas’ tears are already camouflaged with the rain falling upon the ruins of the castle.
The rumble of thunder makes the younger fighters jump and holler in surprise. Axel unfastens the mask and takes a peek out the windows of the gym. Dark, looming clouds billow and roll like angry bulls through the monochrome sky. There is another commanding boom that slices throughout the town, gaining the respect by silencing the entire gym. The trainer then succumbs to the whims of nature by suggesting that everyone should go home before a freak storm hits. There is a general murmur of agreement, and soon, majority of youths are leaving or phoning their parents for rides.
Red chakrams whirl between fingers as Axel entertains himself idly, watching the children crowd to leave.
The instructor notices the redhead’s decision to stay, and asks him ‘are you sure?’
The boy shrugs. Going home would simply mean finishing his math homework, making himself dinner, and struggling to find a television channel that wasn’t stricken with goddamn static before giving up and sleeping off the rest of the evening. The supervisor merely nods at Axel’s silent answer, and asks him for his help to put away the sparring gear that the retiring kids were leaving near the door.
He carries three sets of gear into the storage room at a time, going back and forth from the front entrance to the back, waving and saying goodbye to the younger combatants at the door who merrily shake their Struggle bats at him.
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A cold sweat erupts across his brow and neck as his green eyes remain locked onto the blank, soulless face framed by strands of messy yellow spikes. The stranger looks ghostly, blurred by the fall of rain. The blond male, adorned in black, seems to blend into the dark streets, an image reminiscent of a phantom. His lips are a straight line, making him look like a being devoid of any emotions. It is so quiet in the hall-Axel doesn’t hear the yelps and grunts of the remaining sparring youngsters behind him. And yet, the fire in the back of Axel’s mind roars monstrously.
The gym supervisor calls his name once, twice, and finally catches the attention of the redhead. Axel’s staccato breaths make everything dizzy. It’s hard to explain what has him so jumpy when he sees nothing but snow, rain, and empty streets the moment green eyes return to the spot where the man had stood. He rejects the suggestion of going home and getting some rest. He isn’t going out there, not now anyway, not when he’s hallucinating that the man who creeps into his sleep every night is out there, waiting, waiting, waiting.
Everything is black, like the world is painted over with unyielding ink. There are no smells, no familiar touches, no pain, no nothing. The thread connecting him with life had surely been grazing against blades. There’s nothing left. Just a dark, dark abyss, as if he were sleeping. He can barely hear. The sounds that did enter were barely audible, incoherent and meaningless. Everything doesn’t matter anymore, because he’s sleeping. Sleeping.
“I’ll be waiting.”
Axel’s exerting the last of his sugar-induced energy on the punching bags, looking like he is just about to kick and jab the bag into a goddamn pulp; he is more than happy to accept a challenge from the instructor, who meets up with his standards as an opponent. The brunet wields a formidable blade, and Axel actually loses a few beats in his step when he blocks and thrashes in offence. The man with green eyes brushes his clumsiness off and pins the blame on the distraction from the man’s facial scar across his nose. They fight and go through another series of advice until Axel admits his fatigue. He relinquishes his gear to the older man, who walks off into the back. The brunet asks him if he wants a ride home, but before Axel can think on the matter, the shrill cry of an incoming call rips through the now empty gym. The supervisor excuses himself and jogs into his office at the back, leaving Axel to wait and loiter around in the main gym.
The rain is still falling, now harder than ever. The city outside the windows has drowned in black and blue. Axel cannot decide if he wants to stare out into the streets again, lest he manages to catch another sight of a blond man seeking him out. Seeing him in his dreams is bad enough. At the thought, the teenager decides that accepting a ride home will prove wise.
He decides to kill the time of his trainer’s phone call by clambering back into the layers of his outerwear. Ready and waiting, he sits on one of the chairs lining the entrance. From his seat, his eyes are focused on the reflection in the mirrors that cover the gym walls. The reflection of the road sheathed in night is too far for him to notice anything spooky, and soon his eyes grow unfocused, lazy and bored from watching an unchanging image.
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It isn’t real. It isn’t real-
“I’ll be waiting.”
A scream tears through the building, and the trainer scrambles out of the office to find the lone student sprawled on the floor, crying and grunting back sobs. Axel, throwing away his inhibitions, grasps onto the older male and presses his face into the man’s chest. He pleas and wails ‘I want to go home’, and the brunet, concern filling his eyes, agrees immediately and helps him to his car.
The ride back to Axel’s home is quiet; green eyes, red from the sudden eruption of tears, remains locked with the rubber mat of car floor. The older male slows to a halt outside the tall apartment building, and wishes Axel a good night’s sleep. He watches the boy climb the stairs to the tower’s entrance with some difficulty, making sure he was safely inside before driving off into the abyss of the night, leaving the redhead once again to his lonesome.
Axel staggers to the elevator, chest still heaving from the fear that pierced him. What the hell was that? What the hell is wrong with him? His hand claws through his red hair, and he tells himself to quit being such a fucking pussy over nightmares. He reaches some semblance of composure when he reaches the eighth floor, and he steps out of the car and silently makes his way to his flat.
It is close to six when the front door closes behind him. He decides that maybe a small meal will help calm his nerves. Before doing so, he runs around the house checking every room and locking every window. Feeling better with his efforts, the high school student gives himself a hearty pat on the back. He isn’t named school ‘badass’ if he’s a wimp over nightmares. He’s gotten through four years living alone out of the orphanage-now isn’t the time to shrivel up all the effort and cry for the mother he doesn’t have.
By the time nine o’clock draws by, Axel feels the repercussions of his lack of sleep and persistent trips to the gym creep back with thrice fold cruelty. He hulls his chakrams from his pack to his room, dropping them haphazardly beside his bed.
The door clicks shut behind him, and the boy who just congratulated himself of winning back his composure crumbles into a trembling mess.
“What…do you want? What do you want from me?”
“Axel…”
The voice rings in his ears, overpowering even the hard thumps and rushes of his blood. Images of flames licking the walls fill his mind. He once again sees dark monsters bleeding from midair, their terrifying, lifeless eyes shining an evil omen. The phantom voice resonates in his mind-laughing, yelling, and talking softly, and Axel feels a sting spread through his heart.
“Who are you?” His voice cracks. Axel has his eyes closed, willing to fight with the memories of his nightmares than turn around to face the manifestation of them all.
“It’s me, Axel-Roxas. I’ve…been waiting for you for so long.” The voice behind him says again. His voice was of a man’s, and yet manages to hold the life of a child his age. It holds little emotion, if any. No sign of regret, of happiness, of sadness. The emptiness of the man’s voice is what scares Axel the most. “I’ve looked for you for so many years, Axel.” The voice quiets down, as if it were apologizing for all the grief and suffering it’s caused the young student. “And…now I’ve found you!”
Axel lets out a shaky breath, and murmurs with his brilliant green eyes still closed, “I…don’t know you. Get out…of my head!” The boy reaches down and takes in tow his chakrams with unmatchable speed. He spins around, hands gripped with the spiky weapon, expecting to meet nothing but air.
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“What the fuck are you,” he hisses, testing the reality of it all, moving his chakrams against the blade. He winces at the rough scrape of metal. Another wave of fear sprouts over his skin, and his blood feels cold in his body.
The enigma reaches up with his spare hand and flips back his hood. In the blue and grey room, Axel cannot deny the vivid gold of the man’s hair or the piercing blues of his eyes. His head pounds in forgotten memories, and he grits his teeth to stamp down flinching.
“Remember me, Axel?” The man tries again, his slender face looking almost sad as he spoke, “Roxas-your partner, your best friend? The one who you helped get through the Organization?” He lowers his sword, but remains steadfast against Axel’s posed threats. “You…brought me up to the train station in Twilight Town and we ate ice cream after missions. You helped me, Axel. You loved me.”
“The fuck are you talking about?” Axel hisses, teeth bearing and skin prickling in arousal as his energy soars through the roof in anticipation, “I’ve never seen your mug before in my life. I don’t know what the hell the ‘Organization’ is, but I’m telling you, you better get the fuck out of my house before I shred you limb from limb, got it memorized?”
Roxas makes an impatient noise, “you’re coming back with me, Axel!” His demands come out as a hollow shout, absent in sadness, but Axel couldn’t help but feel the pain in the words’ desperation. “I’ve looked and waited for you for so long. It’s time you lived your life out the way you should have in the Organization…the way you should have…with me.”
And that shakes Axel into life. The boy is lunging at him, again and again, chakrams spinning and swiping through the air as Roxas backs up and dodges fluidly, key-shaped swords hanging limply by his sides. Axel, fire burning in the depths of his exhausted eyes, manipulates the older male into the corner, his eyes wide, dark, feral, blurring from the adrenaline-and he is ready to plunge the teeth of his weapons deep into the man’s heart.
And then Roxas moves-the white and black keys in his hands come up, smacking the chakrams from his face and before Axel can resume a defensive posture, the hilts of the swords are biting into his diaphragm. The force sends Axel tumbling backwards, eyes out of focus as the world around him breaks and cracks in white, white, white hot pain. The remainder of breath is knocked from his lungs when the sole of a boot collides with his ribs, when the bedroom door splinters and caves with the charge of his ragdoll body, when his form bounces and twists and skids along the carpet of his living room.
There is blood dripping from his mouth, but it hardly registers-devilish flames lick his chest and stomach, burning and scratching his organs, numbing out any other pain that may have blossomed elsewhere.
Everything is so dark, and yet, he shuffles pathetically when he sees a blond head move slowly out from the obscurity of his bedroom.
“Get…out.” It hurts, oh Holy Jenova, does it fucking hurt to speak.
“Don’t make this hard for me, Axel,” the man murmurs, stopping short of the student’s throbbing body. “Searching world from world for you for the last seventeen years has been hard enough already.”
“Worlds?” The boy hisses, the tattoos on his visage distorting with the bunching muscles, skewed by pain. “I don’t even know you.”
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“I’ll-I’ll help you remember, Axel. I just want you back-I need you back with me, Axel,” there is a subtle hitch in his voice, and the fingers on the younger’s face are stroking now, feeling and touching lovingly. “I’ll take you back to the academy, and we’ll be partners again, Axel, I’ll have your back and you’ll have mine.”
So much fire, so much goddamn heat. Visions of himself fighting hoards of yellow-eyed creatures back to back with a blond flood his mind. The boy is writhing on the ground, head ringing and pounding so fucking hard as the strange images overwhelm his senses. His partner is a head shorter than him, but he wields his swords-Oathkeeper and Oblivion- as if it were a second nature. Axel sneers at the dying monsters on his Chakrams, and the blond, blue eyes glowing with fervor, merely smirks and leaps headlong into the throng of dead, dead beings.
Gloved hands still the thrashing form, the younger’s eyes growing wide when improvised soothing words reach his ears. And then Roxas is leaning down, closer and closer to Axel’s awestruck face. The boy senses the consequences, and the redhead’s hands fly up to push the man off him. A broken cry claws its way out of the student’s throat, and he rolls out of the stranger’s reach.
“What the hell are you doing to me?!” The chakrams are hurled from his hands, barely evaded by the blond’s fast reflects-and the boy charges swiftly at the older man. Roxas, unprepared for the impact, gives a pained grunt when Axel’s knee digs high and deep into his stomach. An elbow drives into the unprotected spine of the yellow-haired male, and as Roxas stumbles forward, Axel is surging for his chakrams that had cut into the skin of the wall. Roxas is attacking again, light from the moonshine on the snow of the adjacent building shining off the white and black surfaces of the dual blades. Axel proves to be an equal in combat, fighting off strike for strike in the darkness of his home. Lamps smash, chair legs split, and the cushions of the loveseat bleed their stuffing when time and time again, the edges of their arms are swung and deflected.
The redhead twists his body, falling out of reach of Roxas’ ruthless blades, and Axel’s spirit roars into life when he lurches forward, sending both wheel soaring across the room. Roxas turns to the side, narrowly escaping a horrible end, but a spike jutting from his chakram leaves an incredible laceration in the dark cloak. Roxas is crying out in pain, doubled over the dirty carpet, and Axel takes the opportunity to grab his weapons embedded in the wall.
Green eyes never leave the sight of the blond man, who was looking angry, confused, and excited all at once, as he yanks the arms from the vertical surface.
“Axel,” Roxas moans, sending a chill running up the redhead’s back, “you have to remember-remember, for fuck’s sake!”
Axel twirls the weapons in his hands, and without warning, sends them flying into the opposite wall, grazing the ends of the blond’s head as the older male rolls out of the way.
“Remember the missions, the ice cream we shared, the promises we made!” Roxas leaps forward, not giving any time for Axel to back out from the corner he was in and make a run for his weapons, “Twilight town, twilight town, can’t you remember Twilight Town?” The star-like ends of the ivory and blue colored blade narrowly misses the boy’s shoulders when the younger collapses out of reach.
“You saved my life, Axel, you fought off the Heartless for my sake!”
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He is howling, screaming his lungs raw when the hilts of the intruder’s weapons slash across his shoulders, leaving a trail of lava searing the muscle beneath his skin.
“You died for me, Axel!!”
Axel is too slow; the chakrams in his hands are locked into place against the wall by the key-like blades, painfully trapping the redhead’s hands against the hollow surface.
The entire apartment suddenly grows still, unmoving, as if time had stopped. Axel, through the throbbing in his head and aches in his limbs, vaguely questions why no one had called the cops yet.
Roxas is breathing hard, and Axel, pinned to the wall, can’t help but wonder why those blue eyes look so familiar, as if he’s seen them beyond the fragments of his nightly intrusions.
“You…you died for me,” the blond repeats, voice low, almost as if he were pleading if his face showed a touch more emotion, “you lost your heart during a mission at Beast’s Castle, so I can live. There was so much fire, so much fire…and…I couldn’t leave you. I needed you back.”
Axel recoils into his defeat, and edges flush up to the wall behind him. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“I gave you my heart, Axel!” He’s screaming now, of impatience or of need-Axel can’t tell. “I hauled your broken, burnt, bleeding body back to the academy, asked Vexen to fucking save your life if he wanted to live to see the sunrise, and the only way to do it was to give…you my heart.”
The high school student scoffs in disbelief, even as horrific images of a death he doesn’t recall darken his vision. “So you’re saying I have your heart?”
The midnight-colored swords rips from the wall and Roxas quickly takes the boy’s bleeding arm, pressing the worn hand to his chest. Axel stops breathing.
There is no pulse.
“The process denied us to be together, because if I were too close to you in the growth stage, there might be flaws in our shared heart, and the both of us would disappear. My heart in your chest would cease to survive, and I…I don’t…have a heart. I’d fade away into nothingness if something went wrong with your adaptation.”
Axel can’t believe this. There is no way any of this were true, he thinks. He doesn’t have this crazy stalker’s heart. It’s impossible. He’s trying to tell himself this is another bad, terrible nightmare, and when he wakes, it will all be over.
“They recovered your body, and sent you in the form of an infant to a completely different world. Headmaster Xemnas wouldn’t tell me where you were in case something went wrong. So for the last seventeen years, Axel, you grew up here, in Destiny Islands, and I grew older at the academy, empty and blank of emotions because I didn’t have a heart to encompass them. I lived off the memory of you, Axel.”
Twelve years at the Destiny’s Orphanage. He housed with a boy named Seifer who was five years older for a year, only to have the apartment relinquished to Axel after Seifer left town. He had no parents. All of this was thought to be just a misfortune in his life. It never occurred to Axel that it was all a second life.
“Roxas…” it’s not meant to be a question, or comment, or anything-Axel is merely testing the name in his mouth, silently questioning why the two-syllable word felt so foreign on his tongue, and yet, here’s a blond stranger who claims to have known him for more than seventeen years, practically abusing his name and telling his life story for him.
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“Let me...”
A pair of lips presses against Axel’s, warm, soft, and tender. The younger male can’t grasp the situation in time, and he lets out a mindless moan instead. His left hand is still trapped between the wall and his own chakram, and his right is grasped in Roxas’. He flinches back when a tongue traces the seam of his bleeding lips, but the soldier figure only leans in harder.
The redhead’s mind and sense of judgment are reeling, disintegrating. His brain is telling him to fight back, throw off the unknown, and run the fuck away. Then the sleeping portion of his mind is awake, telling him this is right, this is real, this is the result of who he was. His body relaxes unconditionally, and before he can stop himself, his mouth opens to Roxas’ kiss. The taller male makes a noise, and takes the invitation. The room fills with the soft sound of their activity, frantic, wet, and desperate-a remedy to a lifetime of loneliness.
“You taste the same,” Roxas murmurs, moving from the boy’s mouth to his neck. Axel wants to say, wants to say so badly, ‘you do too’, but the meaningless sentence obliterates from his mind when the open-mouth against his throat sucks and bites with a dizzying gentleness. Axel arches into the sensual feel, his right hand breaking free from Roxas’ fingers only to tangle themselves into the blond mess of hair. He holds the man against his neck, eyes closed, breathing becoming hard and shallow.
The two bodies moved together in the darkness of the dorm room. The light of the moon pours intrusively in the locked chamber, revealing the silhouettes of lovers. Their reports, the meeting with the headmaster, the missions-none of them are present in their mind.
Axel kisses the younger boy passionately, tongues sliding against the other, and he swallows the moans that slip from the blond’s mouth. The last eight months as newcomer and mentor had brought them to this point: together, bare, exposing all their desires and needs for one another.
Roxas, sapphire eyes glowing in lust, moans his partner’s name when the older boy drives deep into him, hitting the spot that sends him falling into a sensuous abyss. Axel tastes him, mouth traversing over silken skin spoiled by the occasional scar.
The boy tastes so sweet, insatiable. He rocks against the supple body five years his junior, skin flushed and intense as their embrace brings the both of them closer to their release.
The last chakram falls from the niche in the wall, releasing Axel’s left arm. The limb, rosy with crimson blossoms and rivers, trembles as it draws itself over, wrapping around the blond’s shoulders. The younger sighs into the kiss, losing himself to the delicate feel of Roxas’ lips. He knows this mouth is alien-he’s never kissed another man in this life-in his life-he knows, he knows, he’s so sure, but the taste of a bizarre treat-sea-salt ice cream-stains his mouth.
Gloved hands, free of any weapons and destructive intentions, eagerly touch and explore the young man’s body. Axel gives a light gasp when fingers snake up the hem of his shirt and brush teasingly over nipples. He’s unaware of the soft sounds leaving his mouth, until he lets out a howl when a hand rubs the monstrous bruises surfacing on his ribs. And Roxas kisses him so tenderly, so sweetly, whispering apologies and doing his best to caress away the pain.
A hand sweeps down and cups the half-hard erection beneath the pajama pants, and Axel can’t help but jerk his hips forward into the hand with a moan.
The redhead doesn’t understand why this is all happening, why his body is letting all this happen. But it isn’t long before he loses his shirt, and the hand touching him so sensually had lost the leather cover and it’s suddenly skin on skin beneath the waistband of his pants.
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“Please.”
Axel doesn’t know what Roxas is asking for, but regardless, his head nods, and he can’t help but feel elated when the corners of the stranger’s mouth twitches into the smallest smile. He allows himself to be cradled back to his bedroom, and a somber image of his body, his worn, bloody legs being dragged backwards through a dying fire pollutes his mind.
The coolness of the bed sheets coaxes a tiny groan from Axel. The older of the two climbs onto the mattress, careful when he lowers his weight onto the slender frame beneath him.
Fingers brush over angry blue knots staining Axel’s chiseled torso. Axel bites his lips, choking off the urge to whimper when the blond’s lips trace the tender wounds.
The teenager gives a high note and throws his head back into the mattress when a hand strokes him hard, and a hot tongue licks over the vicious bruise on his diaphragm. The rival sensations repeat, and a choked cry leaves Axel breathless as he struggles with the fact that it’s so real, oh god it’s so real. He bucks involuntarily, a pained sob escaping when his body squirms, not knowing whether to move against the hand or shuffle away from the mouth. Roxas moves down the bed, naked hands trailing down the boy’s sides as his mouth follows suit.
And he’s suddenly keening loudly, writhing, losing himself in incredible pleasure and heat when Roxas envelopes him. His body curls from the sensation, legs tense from spreading, mouth open to say something, anything, but all that comes out is a withering whimper. He watches as the blond’s mouth slides up and down on his erection, swallowing his penis down to the hilt, and it’s all he can do to dig his nails into the cheap bed sheets and stop from bucking off the bed. It is so hot in his room, and he almost loses track of the below zero temperatures outside, and the lack of heating in his house.
A soft, wet pop brings a furious blush to Axel’s face, and Roxas can’t help but become drawn to the younger’s expression. He moves forward, and soothes the youth’s face with a hand. The boy looks so delicate for a man who’s been through a lifetime of fighting with monsters, saving the world, and sacrificing his life for his best friend. A kiss soothes itself over the curve of a neck, and the redhead makes a sound of approval.
“You’re so young, Axel.” The student feels the other man laugh bitterly into his neck, “and to think…we were supposed to grow up and graduate from the Organization with me being consistently five years younger than you…”
Axel grunts when fingers press against his chest, over the area where a heartbeat thrums beneath his bones. His lips feel lonely, and he pulls Roxas down on him. His other hand tugs at the silver teeth sealing up the man’s skin. As the dark fabric pulls away, the student holds his breath at the sight of a long cut across the soldier’s ribs. His lips move in a small apology, fingertips reddening from the smear of blood. Then he notices the scar.
His fingers move to touch it, brushing over the puckered imperfection, trying to read it as if it were Braille. It’s like an eerie cross on Roxas’ bosom, long, web-like, healed and grown over with time, hiding a treasure that isn’t even there. Axel touches his own heart and the pads of his fingers brush over the small, thread like scars that have marred his flesh for almost two decades.
“Roxas-“
The blond takes the hand and presses it against his body. Axel still doesn’t feel a pulse.
Roxas smiles, a shallow attempt. “Mysteries of the Organization, Axel,” he says softly, his other hand touching the boy’s face to coax away the frustrated frown, “I can bleed without a heart, and yet, I can’t feel. I can only live off the memories.”
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The two of them are sitting on the ledge of the station again, eating their blue ice cream bars. Roxas shuffles in his uniform, tentatively eating the bar, hoping no cream will drop onto his vest. His other hand is twined with Axel’s, who’s taking large bites from his own treat. In the distance, the sun sets in its snail pace, making the city glow in its warm splendor. Their day off was almost over, and tomorrow, they’ll be sent off to Beast’s Castle for another boring mission to log and report about for Roxas’ class.
“Do you think we can be like this forever? You know…here, together?” Roxas asks, the cold sweet pressed against his lips.
Axel squeezes his hand, and pulls the junior student into a short kiss.
“I hope we can,” he offers, “but regardless, we gotta make a lot of memories of the time we do have together!”
Roxas sighs against him, and scoots closer, thigh coming to press up against his mentor’s. They forget about their ice cream when their mouths touch. Axel’s hand cups the back of the younger student’s neck, and Roxas pulls himself closer to him, nimble fingers slipping beneath the black school uniform. The beats of their hearts quicken, and Roxas pulls back, breathing hard, and looks up at the handsome student beside him.
“Let’s go make another one.”
Axel is trying to relax, taking in long breaths, exhaling slowly, burying his reddened face into the crook of Roxas’ shoulders as the fingers between his legs move. He whimpers, and the blond man is trying his damnedest to ease the pain.
The digits slide deeper into him, and Axel makes a noise at the new feeling. Roxas suckles on an unmarked patch of skin on his throat, telling him not to worry, promising that it will get better. Before he presses in, Roxas tells Axel he loves him.
Axel can’t say anything back, but he kisses him all the same.
Everything is blurring white and yellow around the edges when Roxas moves, slowly, waiting for his lover to adjust. Axel can’t stop the moans and whimpers from leaving his mouth, and when Roxas thrusts shallowly, the entire world becomes blinded by dazzling stars.
The effects of their activity curl and twist in Axel’s stomach, drawing tighter, hinting at completion. The red-haired student bucks and moves in tandem with Roxas’ movements, green eyes blinking and staring deeply into the pair of azure above him. The dull ache from the wounds on his body fades to the back of his head as bliss electrifies every nerve. He barely feels the drops of blood landing on his skin. The hand around his shaft moves and pumps, making Axel arch and groan the alien name.
Roxas thrusts in twice-three more times, and has Axel screaming when he ejaculates between his fingers. He can’t help but gasp at the tightness around him. The man with hollow blue eyes lets out a soft whimper, and kisses Axel hard on the mouth when he comes in hot spurts.
Labored breathing consumes the silence of the apartment. The blond groans when he removes himself, remaining still as he observes the boy beneath him. The minutes pass, neither of them breaking the spell between their eyes.
Axel shifts onto his elbows, and without any reason, kisses his blond partner passionately. He doesn’t know what he’s doing, or why, but it doesn’t erase the thought that it feels completely right. He whispers the enigma’s name, planting kiss after kiss on his clammy skin.
The older man returns the affection, soon hungry for more. Moving hands map out the skin of the tattooed male, enjoying the huffs he releases when his palm moves up the satin thigh to the fork of his legs. In turn, Axel sinks his teeth into the firm muscles of the blond’s shoulder, his own fingers digging into the light hairs at the nape of his lover’s neck. The enigma lets out a moan, and stops the boy’s actions. He looks at him through the darkness of the bed chamber, and utters a sound laced with agony.
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They remain silent for a while, listening to the lone heart that beats in Axel’s chest, to the soft fall of rain outside the window. Without words, Axel takes the initiative and lowers Roxas onto the bed. He looms over him in a similar fashion as the blond did just moments ago, and kisses him. Bare arms loop around the student’s shoulders, and everything suddenly becomes an anguished cry for the events lost in dust. Their tongues tangle, and Axel is moving his hips, his forming erection rubbing against the dip in Roxas’ hip. The older man groans, almost sobbing when Axel brushes his mouth over the scar on his chest. A hot tongue comes out and licks away the trickles of ruby that colors ivory skin. The wounded man breathes in loud huffs, writhing slowly as his former friend cleans the lesion, and twitching when fingers knead his flat stomach.
When they kiss, Roxas tastes the remnants of his memories.
The light from the window makes the two figures glow in blue. There is no sound aside from the travailed breaths from the beings in the room, no movements in the rest of the apartment, city, or world. The patter of rain is missing. The universe has stopped for Axel as the two of them indulge greedily, reaching back, back, back in time for this one moment.
Axel presses into Roxas, and lets the blond’s name fall from his open lips.
The redhead knows this is all surreal. He’s never done anything like this, and yet, his body knows exactly what to do and where to do it to have Roxas moaning his name passionately. Axel hikes a slender leg higher on his shoulder, and with a single thrust makes Roxas arch and give a guttural cry.
“Axel,” Roxas hisses, his hand grasping onto Axel’s knee, “I love you…!”
A sharp pain erupts in Axel’s heart, and tears fall from his green eyes. Those nameless tears aren’t his own, Axel realizes, but the loneliness they carry with them hurts him all the same. He wants to know something is missing from his heart, wants to admit his love for the blue-eyed wonder, wants to accept this blond into his life because Roxas is the empty part of him. He wants it so bad, he wants to make Roxas-a ghost, a half-being-whole again, but he can’t. His life-nothing is missing. His heart is full, and this man is only a makeshift memory, a testament of a life that he never lived.
Axel surges in, moaning and hissing in pleasure. His hand jerks the blond’s cock in time with his movements, his slender fingers caressing and kneading so sinfully against the tight skin. He presses forward, his hot breath feathering over the swollen skin of Roxas’ mouth. He lets Roxas pull him down, engaging the two of them in a kiss that consumes their famished desire. The redhead presses his thumb against the weeping slit, and Roxas arches off the bed with a cry, coming for the second time.
Axel gasps a wanton note, Roxas’ name on his tongue as he rides out the waves of his orgasm.
The world slowly begins to turn, and time itself restarts, everything dissolving into history. Axel presses his naked body onto the blond’s, groaning at the slight pressure on his bruised frame. He pulls the covers over the two of them, hiding his face in Roxas’ neck. His arms wrap about Roxas’ warm body, and he falls asleep without another word.
Roxas lays awake, memorizing the beat of Axel’s life as it strums against his chest.
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The operation was a success. The young blond, now eighteen in years, has grown much taller, leaner, and stronger. His porcelain face, framed by his yellow wavy hair, had become slender, so very handsome with the childish curves of his cheeks gone, and he maintains an aura of confidence with his bright blue eyes. He’s graduated from third class missionary and is now studying to reach first class soldier in the academy.
Roxas trudges along the dark city outside the Organization. Students around him are laughing, partying, running around freely with the last of exams and nearing of summer vacation, while Roxas remains a blank slate, drawing distant from the friends he used to have. The crystal soul buried in his heart was removed and given to his lover. He wants to be happy, he wants to rejoice knowing Axel is still alive somewhere, but he isn’t. He can’t be.
His hand presses against his chest. The muscle there ceases to beat, laugh, and cry, but serves its purpose to maintain the survival of his flesh.
He wants to weep. It’s been so long since he shed a tear out of sorrow. When he woke up in the operation room of the academy and realized Axel was gone, taken from this world, taken from him, his heart didn’t allow him to manifest the torture of loss.
The inability to feel was far more painful than Roxas had imagined.
Axel is still sound asleep when Roxas removes himself from the mattress. He dresses himself quietly, blending into the darkness of the early morning as he conceals the light of his hair and eyes behind a hood. He walks back out into the living room that’s been tattered and gashed by their fight and gathers up his weapons. The abandoned chakrams lay cold and still on the floor. Roxas can’t remember how many times those weapons had saved his life, allowing him to evade death just when he thought it was all over for him.
On the wall, above the deep rips, were photographs of Axel. Roxas walks closer, eyes shining in curiosity. The boy had many friends who were all smiling, looking as happy as Roxas was whenever he was with his partner. Roxas dips his hand into the pocket of his coat, and withdraws a crumpled and worn out paper. He unfolds the package, and brings the parcel up to a photo of Axel with his arm slung around the shoulders of a boy with dirty blond hair on the beach. Roxas is much younger in the photograph, back during his first year at the Organization. In both images, Axel looks radiant, his smile almost as bright as those green eyes. Roxas can’t help but crack a smile at the appearance of tattoos on the two identical faces.
Old habits do die hard.
He plays on the possibility of leaving the photograph here, forging a piece of the past alongside the life that he wasn’t part of.
But he doesn’t. He places the memory back into his pocket, and returns to the bedroom. The blond man leans down, stroking the stray strands of red hair from the boy’s countenance before leaning in for a soft kiss.
Axel doesn’t belong with him anymore. Roxas was a creature of the past, a winter dream soon to disappear, and Axel was the future.
Roxas leaves the quiet apartment before dawn, black boots biting into the slush that had accumulated. His swords are snuggly placed in sheaths that are slung on his back. He reaches the beach on the edge of the tiny town, white and pristine with untouched snow. The boy holds up a hand and the air before him skews black and purple, opening up a portal leading back to the academy. He silently wishes Axel farewell and leaves alone.
In the distance, the first ray of gold breaks through the dead shades of grey and blue.
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Nijuuni!
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don't care to really post this anon, this was amazing and heart-breaking and hot. sdasdfsdsdf, thank you for writing this D':
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