
Posted originally on the Archive_of_Our_Own at https://archiveofourown.org/
works/363741.
  Rating:
      Explicit
  Archive Warning:
      Graphic_Depictions_Of_Violence, Rape/Non-Con, Underage
  Category:
      F/M, M/M, Multi
  Fandom:
      Kingdom_Hearts
  Relationship:
      Naminé/Sora, Riku/Sora, Larxene/Roxas/Axel, Axel/Roxas, Roxas/Roxas/Anti-
      form, Axel/Saix
  Additional Tags:
      Fingerfucking, Fluff, Bondage, Bloodplay, Knifeplay, Threesome_-_F/M/M,
      Painplay, Trans_Character, Gender_Dysphoria, Body_Dysphoria, Threesome_-
      M/M/Other, Dubious_Consent, Forced_Orgasm, Underage_Character, Shota,
      Oral_Fixation, Wall_Sex, Clothed_Sex, Beach_Sex, Self-cest, Humiliation
  Stats:
      Published: 2012-03-17 Chapters: 7/7 Words: 4772
****** Porny Ficlets ******
by mostlyharmless
Summary
     A bunch of porny ficlets written for various people or memes.
     Probably really bad.
Notes
     Prompt: Sora/Namine, fluffy first time sex; preferably not too AU?
     bonus points if it's on the beach/in the waves of Destiny Islands
     (and they're not caught despite that~)
***** Restoration (Sora/Namine) *****
"-Uh," stuttered Namine, bright blue sky shutting out as her eyes squeezed
closed. "S-Sora, we can't-here, it's-nnh." The words scattered in her brain
like the the fine sand though her fingers.
Sora looked up, impish grin hovering right above her left nipple. Face glowing,
Namine tugged at the white dress around her middle, streaking it with wet sand.
"Someone might see," she whispered, as Sora captured her nimble fingers in his
own calloused ones, bringing them to his face.
"No, they won't," he said, and she felt the grin curve against her palm. "We
have the island all to ourselves today. Remember? We planned it aaaaall out."
She inhaled, and his eyes dropped to her snowy white breasts as they heaved,
exposed beneath him.
She noticed, flushing deepening. "Sora..."
"You don't want to do this?" he asked, hands dutifully retreating to her arms.
"No, I... I do. Please..." She squeezed her eyes shut again, this time against
the thoughts crowding her head. Please don't get frustrated with me. I wish I
was stronger.
Sora grinned again. "Pleeeease? Please what, Namine?"
"Please..."
Willing the blush out of her cheeks, she took his large hand from where it was
stroking her upper arm, and placed it over her breast. Watching her face
carefully, he dragged a thumb over her nipple, and she sucked in a breath, back
arching slightly. "I love the way you look, like this," he whispered, almost
confidentially, eyes round.
She couldn't help the smile that worked its way onto her lips as she drew his
face towards hers for a kiss.
Kissing was nice, she liked the warm pull and slide of his mouth on hers, but
she liked it when his mouth slid lower, down her throat, and oh, she liked-
Squeaking as he took her nipple in his mouth again, she ran her hands
helplessly down his back, sand trailing from her fingertips, watching the sky
disappear as her eyes slid shut again.
They flew open when she felt the rough pads of his fingers rub a circle against
her inner thigh, and she squished her legs together instinctively. "Ack," Sora
laughed against her chest, then looked up sheepishly. "Uh, I'm sorry! I, um, I
got carried away-"
"No," Namine laughed, embarrassed herself. "No, it's okay, it's..."
Exhaling completely, she let her legs fall open again. Sora muffled a deep
noise against her collarbone, and she shivered.
His hand began stroking those tiny circles again, experimental. Up and down her
thighs, around her hipbones, breath catching again, and again... just above her
panties, and her hips rolled up of their own accord. She felt Sora exhale hotly
against her shoulder. "Your heart is going like crazy," he informed her,
rubbing there slowly, and she could hear the tinge of wonder in his voice.
"I'm s-sorry," she stuttered, only half realising that made no sense, hips
straining. "I, just, please, Sora, please..."
She felt his fingertips slip just under the elastic of her panties, a high-
pitched noise escaping her as his fingers moved just over-hips rolled up again,
needing that pressure, more pressure-back arching, she needed, she needed...
And Sora carefully pressed down between the folds, being so gentle as she
forced her hips to stop. They both stilled there. Namine blew out a breathy
nervous giggle, and gripped his forearm.
Holding onto his arm made her feel more secure as he slowly, gently explored
her body, learning what made her twitch, what made her squeak, what made her
toes curl in the sand...
It must have been the tide coming in that was wetting her feet, but she could
hardly care, could hardly think, with those long, sturdy fingers making shallow
thrusts deep inside her, a long, low moan leaking out of her open mouth.
A shaky kiss was pressed to her cheek, she turned into it, meeting the clumsy,
distracted movments of his lips. So good, it felt so good, too good, body
singing, she couldn't think, couldn't... can't...
"Huh?" she half heard Sora say, mouth inches from hers as he watched her face.
"Can't... I can't..."
It was too much, too good, too, too...
Roxas shot up in bed, legs tangling in sweaty blankets. He grimaced as he
realised he was rock hard, but he didn't realise he was wiping his fingers
absently against the sheets.
She put her crayon down, bathed in the blue light of monitors.
***** Rain (Riku/Sora) *****
Chapter Notes
     Prompt: Sora/Riku, sex in the rain. Your choice of location.
Riku hated the rain. It made him feel lethargic and inclined to depressing
thoughts. Not to mention, it made his jeans go all heavy and soggy. He hitched
up his jeans for the billionth time, pushing his darkened hair out of his eyes.
Sora loved the rain. All that energy pouring from the sky; it made him go a
little wild, tearing up and down the beach under the grey sky, the ocean
swelling.
Racing up to Riku, that look in his eyes, wrapping lean arms around him, 'come
on'.
It was Sora who taught Riku to love the rain, to see how beautiful it could be.
How tanned muscles shone perfect when wet, how it clung to Sora's eyelashes.
How it tasted in Sora's mouth.
How it washed away the sand (the darkness), lending power as it pounded against
the rocks and their bodies, limbs sliding and grasping.
How when, tangled together, dry and warm by a fire in the cave, the rain
lashing against the outside world sealed them in, cocooned them, safe and
together. Pressing lazy kisses, protected by the earth and stone.
How dazzling and clean it made the dawn.
***** Electric Feel (Larxene/Axel/Roxas) *****
Chapter Notes
     Prompt: pairing: larxene/axel/roxas. kink: heavy bondage and
     bloodplay.
     (Please take that prompt as a warning for those things!!)
"Like this?" came Roxas' voice, hesitant, and Larxene's laughter crackled
through the charged air.
"He can take more," she said, and Axel squeezed his eyes shut against the
blindfold and tried to stop the high-pitched whine building in his aching
throat as two of Roxas' fingers pulled out of him, and three pushed back
inside.
His shoulders were starting to ache from the bad angle, wrists strapped
together and trapped underneath his back, head forced backwards. Tacky with
sweat.
Something slithered softly against his cheek—Larxene's hair?—and he shuddered.
He could feel her grin, her breath ghosting softly against his cheekbone. "You
heard me, Axel. You like it, don't you?"
No, thought Axel. He didn't. Axel liked having all the cards up his sleeve,
Axel liked being the one with the knowing eyes and the threat in his smile.
Except.
Except for at times like this, the secret times with Larxene and her leathers,
when he was tied up and unable to move, unable to scheme, unable to think. Only
option to just let go.
Roxas was moving his fingers experimentally, not reaching where Axel needed it
most, and his body strained; Roxas' inexperienced missing was just as bad as
deliberate teasing.
"Now, now," said Larxene, and she gripped Axel's hip tight enough to bruise.
That time a whine did escape, as Roxas' wriggling inside him sent a shiver of
sparks down his spine, Larxene's fingers pressing rhythmically into the bruises
until his cock was dripping on his stomach and his body was sheened in sweat.
There was a shuffling and pressing around him as someone moved. Long, slim
fingers pressed into his mouth, he curled his tongue around them. Tasted like
girl. Larxene must be enjoying this. "Good boy," she purred, sound going
straight to his groin and fuck he wasn't gonna last.
Then the fingers inside him twisted in painful experimental failure, and he bit
down on Larxene's fingers. She hissed poisonously, and suddenly his face seared
with a stinging sharp pain.
He gasped and panted with blood on his tongue, nerves tingling in shock, half
expecting more pain, unable to move, unable to even see where it might come
from. He could almost feel a heart hammering in his chest. Almost feel.
"I think," she said, and he could imagine the broken-glass glitter in her eye,
"you need to be punished for that."
Then there was something sharp pressing into his chest, and fuck fuck fuck.
Lines of firebrand peeling apart his skin, stars and static jumping in front of
his eyes, blood rushing in ears so loud it drowned out everything.
The fingers pulled out and he choked on a moan. He wouldn't beg. Wouldn't say
don't stop. The pad of Larxene's thumb was smearing the cut and his entire body
was an ache, a ball of piercing throbbing ache in the darkness.
And then there was a little wet tongue on his balls, a soft nervous kiss on the
skin of his stomach, and he jolted, the sounds coming from his mouth were just
a little more broken, just a little more desperate.
"Fuck me," he managed, throat raw, and he imagined Roxas' curt little nod, his
professional little movements as he shifted into place. Larxene giggled and
sliced shallow strokes over his left pectoral.
/
Roxas slid in
\
Stretched, swollen, and his chest burned burned burned
l
A needy liquid sound from Roxas.
l
Staccato,
l
Axel fell apart.
***** Endurance (Axel/Roxas) *****
Chapter Notes
     Prompt: Roxas & Axel - Axel as trans. Watching themselves having sex
     in a full-body mirror & sadomasochism.
     (warning for gender and body dysphoria)
Axel shudders again as Roxas' mouth trails fire between his breasts, lips
gazing up to tease a nipple. The thought makes bile rise in his throat, but he
threads his fingers in Roxas' hair and murmurs something encouraging anyway,
eyes slipping shut.
Roxas' fingers are sliding between Axel's legs, rubbing slow and reassuring. He
twinges with wrongwrongwrong, forcing his body to relax, forcing his hands to
stop trembling. Roxas presses a kiss to his tattooed cheek, blue eyes fixed on
the huge mirror facing the bed, watching their bodies twine. He knows he loves
his long legs, his wide hips, his fiery hair.
But when Axel follows his gaze, the image almost makes him sick. He feels so
disconnected from his body, like the terrifying folds between his legs aren't
really his, like those protrusions on his chest don't belong to him. For so
long he's bound them tight, hid his traitorous body in baggy clothing, and
there it is reflected at him, naked and exposed and nothing like how he feels
inside.
Roxas looks up at him, flushing, apologetic. He tries so hard to make it good
for 'his girl'; he's not even touching himself right now. Axel tries to smooth
the strain from his smile. He can't tell Roxas the truth. He doesn't need to
know.
Axel takes Roxas' wrist, pulls it away, slicks his own trembling fingers as
best he can.
He sits up now, pulling Roxas into his lap, so his beautiful body hides most of
Axel's in the reflection. He wraps long fingers around his cock, both their
eyes now trained on their copies in the glass.
Axel strokes him, watches the muscles in his stomach tighten, feels heat
rolling low in his own. He jerks faster, tasting the salt on Roxas' skin,
listening to his laboured breathing, half-pretending he's doing this to
himself, ashamed, aroused. Those two feelings never seem to be apart, for him.
One day he'll have someone cut him up, patch him together and make a skin that
fits, and then maybe Roxas won't want to touch him at all, any more. So he
takes these moments, treasures them, tries to make this pain and discomfort
into pleasure. Crystallise the memory of Roxas' flushed face, golden hair dark
with sweat, his pupils blown and the pale column of his throat bared as he
comes. Axel can't take his eyes off Roxas' cock in the mirror, emptying itself,
shameful, arousing.
Roxas nuzzles Axel's jaw with his head, presses kisses there. "Sorry, I—next
time. Next time, I promise."
***** Self-harm (Org!Roxas/TWTN!Roxas/Antiform) *****
Chapter Notes
     Prompt: organization 13!Roxas/twilight town Roxas (work that however
     you want. au, in Sora's subconscious somehow, whatever. i just think
     it'd be sweet to see them as separate characters)
     kink is mind games, and bondage. i'm thinking non-con but that can be
     up to the anon.
     (warning for dubcon)
 
Whoever said they were like two sides of a coin was naive. There were many,
many sides to them.
The sunkissed kid with the heart of a hero. The pale kid with hollow eyes. A
writhing, twitching darkness in the shape of a boy. A forgotten memory in the
shape of a girl. The imprint of a pure heart that had once taken refuge within
their warm chest, and—the innocent boy that the ghost of that imprint had
shaped for herself.
Within a crystalline heart, they exist as one, as many, like the facets of a
diamond, like all the colours that make up light.
This is where Roxas wakes up.
Still tasting the sea breeze, the sunlight that had been sparkling in Naminé's
eyes still dances as black dots in his vision. There's an aching happiness in
his chest.
Together, every day. Just like we promised. And, I… finally got to go to the
beach…
"Huh."
The derisive sound vibrates through Roxas' whole body, leaving him dazed and
disconnected, flat on his back against a huge stained glass window.
"I  never got to go to the beach…"
Roxas turns his head, and comes face to face with glowing yellow eyes. He
yelps, jerking back, as a creature claws over him, sniffing at his throat.
"Idiot," comes the voice again, and Roxas realises it's hisown voice, and the
creature pushes a cold nose into his neck, against his fluttering pulse. "It
can't hurt you. Not as we are now."
Panting in fear, Roxas thrashes wildly, clawing as the cool sinuous form
presses close, convulsing in silence.
It's then, pinned to the floor, voice stuck in his throat, that he sees the
pale face above him, glowing in the dark. It's almost like looking into a
mirror, but all colour is bleached from his skin, and his familiar jeans are
replaced with sleek black leather.
"You… I… remember…"
His head fills with static.
—?.=XIII.x^-
"No, you don't. If you remembered, you'd be me."
The boy's face is icy, a white circle floating closer, the rest of his body
blending into the surrounding darkness.
—/the*colours%that^make(up)13light—
"I made promises, too, you know," he whispers, and suddenly Roxas feels numb,
the pearly stained glass beneath him suddenly streaking with
—the#00111000one"that;reaches the&furthest+is8—
red, and there's a burning sensation in Roxas' throat; he gasps. XIII kneels
beside his face, watching impassively. The yellow eyes of the anti-form flick
between the two.
I hate you so much.
XIII's eyes narrow, and now Roxas isn't sure which one of them said it.
Roxas struggles harder, as the cold eyes watch him. "…Are you going to kill
me?" he continues, feeling the fear bite back up through the haze. "Because I'm
not going to just lie here and take it!"
"You already killed me," is the quiet answer, and Roxas' struggles cease, and
tears sting the back of his eyelids.
"I didn't ask for this," he chokes, and suddenly there's a gloved hand on his
face. The touch sends strange sensations zinging through him, like stroking an
exposed nerve.
Naminé,Roxas thinks desperately.
The anti-form, still draped over him, absorbs his shudder with its elastic
body, pressing him tighter into the glass. Roxas' pinned hand claws uselessly
at the floor, as XIII's face draws closer, breath ghosting over his face,
smelling of nothing.
"Watching you dance on the ends of her chains. It makes me sick."
XIII rubs his cheek against the anti-form's shoulder, and it judders, forcing
Roxas over onto his stomach, melting into his back. Its unbreathing face is
just over his shoulder.
The anti-form bunches its way up his back; Roxas isn't quite sure it's even
human-shaped anymore.
The tip of something cold and metal is pressing into his lower back. Roxas
cries out, and something dark and slimy forces its way past his lips, the taste
of ink overpowering.
Is this really what he used to be like...?
He can feel the waves of derision rolling right through his skin, feel the
unfathomable eyes boring into the back of his head. The cold metal drags down
sharp as a razor, and cold air hits him, raising goosebumps on his flesh. Roxas
whimpers around the thing in his mouth, something like stop, or maybe why.
"I'm not you," comes his answer, from a very strange place behind him, and then
suddenly he's bent double, the anti-form tightening its hold around his back,
thighs, head forced down.
He can't move at all, and his back is starting to ache, when he feels XIII
press a cold kiss to his spine, sending more strange shivers straight to his
core.
Then there's something pressing against—oh holy fuck, what—and Roxas makes an
outraged sound, muffled by the dark sinuous thing suddenly swelling in his
mouth, vision blurring over with hot angry tears as it probes that tight ring
of muscle.
"And you might not be me anymore, but we share a heart. I feel everything you
feel. I know what we want deep down."
What Roxas feels is confused. A second hand, oily with what must be the
darkness rolling out of the anti-form, is creeping under his spread thighs,
caressing him lightly, testing. His body starts to react of its own accord,
fingers flexing against the glass. The strange raw feeling that XIII's touches
induce are magnified a thousand times, and the involuntary noise that escapes
him is far from angry, or pained.
It's then, as one hand starts to move up and down his shaft, that a finger of
the other pushes past the ring of muscle and inside. Someone moans, and he's
sure it wasn't the anti-form, but not sure if it was himself.
Himself...
"And I know a lot about 'deep down'. But you won't ignore me any more."
XIII pushes another oily finger in, and then another. It's uncomfortable and
weird, but—yes, there—the anti-form loosening its hold a little, pushing him
onto elbows and knees, the thing in his mouth starts thrusting past his swollen
lips, slowly, the anti-form holding his head in place. The hand on his cock
pumping harder, better access.
Touching him in all the best places, knowing his body like… like…
It's too much; Roxas' hips snap back and forth, and then he's fucking himself
on XIII's fingers, hitting that spot over and over, the other boy completely
still, just listening to the strangled sounds coming from his throat.
Too much, too much, and he comes, feeling it rip through the whole space,
blinding.
Suddenly, he's on his back again, and the thing in his mouth draws out, more
saliva rolling down his chin, the taste of ink suddenly even worse. He gags,
jaw aching, skin still shivering like it's been ripped back and his nerves are
all exposed.
XIII's fingers draw out, too, and he feels empty, sick. He hears zippers coming
undone, squeezes his eyes shut.
And.
"He died," comes the harsh grunt.
XIII is kneeling there, leather peeled back to reveal an identical pale body.
His white fingers are working on himself, his blue eyes glassy, fixed on Roxas'
flushed face.
"I wasn't there. Because of you."
He comes all over his own hands, over Roxas, but Roxas doesn't mind.
XIII crawls over him, flopping down painfully on one arm, wrenching his
shoulder a little. "You won't repress me anymore." The anti-form slides down
the other side, hands grasping and feathering erratically over Roxas' stomach,
ribs.
Sweat sticking his skin to the glass, Roxas thinks he can hear an ocean lapping
against the pillar, far below them, imagines it sparkling pink with the
residual glow of a princess' heart.
It soothes him, and he feels himself slipping back into a dreamless void.
***** Sucking Pole (Axel/Roxas) *****
Chapter Notes
     A stupid aside for tragicallycanadian's discontinued 'The Other 358
     Days' project.
     Warning for... uh... everything that would be wrong with Axel taking
     advantage of Roxas in his zombie first week.
Roxas' hand dropped back to his thigh, ice cream dangling precariously between
his forefinger and thumb.
"Jeez! You gotta hold it properly," Axel grumbled, grabbing the kid's hand
before he could drop the thing over the edge of the clocktower and forcing his
fingers to curl properly around the stick.
Axel shivered involuntarily. There was something weird about the way the kid
stared, like he was trying to focus but it was all a little too much to
handle. Couldn't really blame the kid; Axel knew he was smoking hot and
everything.
"Come on, Roxas. You did it before, yeah? Man. Maybe it's too much of an ask,
getting you to learn walking and eating in one day," Axel said, slightly
irritated. "Just bring it up to your mouth. We're not going until you finish
it."
But, the kid just stared at him. Axel lifted Roxas' hand, bringing the ice
cream to his closed mouth. "Come on, like this—"
And then the little blond looked at him with those unfocussed eyes and opened
that wet mouth sort of expectantly and Axel felt his whole body flush. Shit.
T-that wasn't hot at all, this was a new kid, Axel didn't know anything about
him. In fact all he did know was that he looked more like a baby angel than
something begging to be stuffed with cock. Fuck fuck fuck.
He blew a shuddering breath, and gently rubbed the blue ice against the kid's
bottom lip, willing the lax fingers under his to just hold on properly and take
the damn thing.
No such luck. His lips came down around the tip of the ice cream, and Axel
found himself in the terrifyingly awkward position of feeding him.
Well, frozen there hanging onto the icy treat while the kid sucked tentatively
at it, at least. He could feel the stick between his fingers jolt ever so
slightly as the Roxas's tongue explored the foreign object in his mouth, and
every millimetre that slipped past the tight wet lips made heat coil tighter
and tighter in Axel's belly.
Why couldn't he look away?
Fuck.
He drew it back a little, to see if it would make the kid grab at it
himself. Roxas instinctively leaned towards the ice cream again, blue stained
tongue peeking out to curl around it, and Axel snapped like that string of blue
saliva. He thrust the ice cream back into Roxas' mouth a little roughly—the
boy's eyelids fluttering in surprise, hands clenching into little fists—and
then again more slowly, in experimental awe.
Roxas sucked at the ice as Axel pushed it in and out once more. It was a little
too wide for the kid's small mouth, and it stretched his lips a little, mouth
becoming obscenely wet with syrupy saliva and melted cream.
The ice cream began to break apart as it moved in and out, a chunk sliding down
Roxas' chin and splattering down his white jacket, landing with a soft 'plish'
on his wrist.
Axel bit back a groan, and tried to ignore the unthinkable building urge to
palm himself as he watched the kid finish the ice cream, chasing every last
drop with his tongue. It's just a fucking ice cream. This is just a fucking
recruit. I'm just making him finish it.
Blue spots stained the white front of Roxas' weird version of a birthday-suit,
but Axel knew that they wouldn't be needed for much longer anyway. That little
jacket wasn't going to be much protection against the darkness.
He wiped the kid's face with the hand that wasn't already streaked with sugary
juice, realised what he was doing, and told himself to get a fucking grip. It
was the ice cream that did this to him, he decided. Nobodies react on memories,
and so many of his were tied to this peculiar treat.
A lifetime ago, he and Isa had pressed sticky blue mouths together under the
eternal dawn sky of Radiant Garden, and if this was as close as he could get to
tasting that happiness again, he'd eat ice cream every day.
***** To the Wall (Axel/Saix) *****
Chapter Notes
     Another stupid porn aside written for tragicallycanadian's
     discontinued project.
     Axel/Saix
Axel closed his eyes lazily against Saïx's hissed words, but his skin prickled
at the sensation of the other Nobody so close by. Restlessness began to expand
inside his chest, and he tapped his fingers against his stomach.
He wanted to be moving, dancing, gesturing, fighting, something. Saïx was still
there against the wall. Axel's lips twitched.
"Do I get a reward for my job well done?" he asked, sliding sinuously up and
off the bed. He'd already traded his leather ensemble for the soft black pants
he usually slept in, exposing his lithe form.
Saïx gave him a heavy-lidded look, flicker of interest underpainting his
eternally displeased expression. "I doubt you had to work very hard."
A glittering grin. "You want me to work for it?" Axel stepped closer, placing
bare feet between Saïx's black boots, and ran a hand brazenly down that
leather-clad chest.
There was a low sound from Saïx, something like a laugh, as a cold nose was
pushed against the hot skin at Axel's neck.
"Yeah," breathed Axel, tilting his head back, heat sliding down his spine. Saïx
covered the hand on his chest with one of his own, capturing Axel's other with
his free hand as he mouthed at his pulse.
You must need this like I need it, thought Axel, letting Saïx's large hands
close around his wrists, pinning them between their chests. Well, prove it to
me.
Saix moved until they were almost touching, forehead-to-scarred-forehead, and
his golden eyes pierced Axel for a moment before he pressed their mouths
together none too softly. Axel teased back with his teeth and tongue even as he
let Saïx drag him against his side, push him against the wall. The rush of
adrenaline was making his head spin, his skin heating up almost painfully. He
wondered whether that counted as a feeling. Proof, perhaps.
Saïx's mouth was hot and insistent, and Axel moulded himself to that hard body
as it crushed him against the wall, breaking his hands free to drag them down
Saïx's back. Saïx made a displeased noise into Axel's mouth, breaking apart the
kiss as he grabbed Axel's thin wrists and pinned them to the wall above his
head.
Axel knew that Saïx understood how to submit, understood the very different
kind of power it brought. Axel knew it too, relished in it sometimes. And Lea
had never minded submitting to Isa, because he knew Isa understood, he could
let go and Isa wouldn't think any less of him—and Saïx, Saïx was the same. Of
course he was. Axel's mind flashed to the subtle line of Saïx' shoulders as he
followed Xemnas through the white halls, and suddenly he wanted.
Not breaking his gaze, he ground his hips into Saïx's slow and hard, and was
rewarded with another kiss, rough against his lips, nipping at his jaw, tongue
on his neck, demanding, insistent. He wanted Saïx to want him to let go, wanted
Saïx to want to see him lose it.  Wanted Saïx to force him. To make him--
Saïx grazed his teeth sharply over Axel's shoulder and thrust his hips, a low
sound escaping from Axel's parted lips. He might have loved it. Loved the sharp
spike of pain, like it connected him to what was real. Loved being held down,
like he was wanted there. Like it could fill up the gaping-- Make him feel--
Desperate, he twisted against the wall, hooking his leg over Saïx's hip and
grinding down at a new angle. Teeth sunk slowly into his shoulder as he was
smashed into the wall, pain dancing behind his eyes and singing through his
empty chest. He couldn't stop the sounds he was making now.
Make him feel alive again.
Saïx let go of his wrists, hefting him up, and Axel wrapped both long legs
around the leather clad waist, held there, suspended, supported, all the places
he was being touched and bitten and rubbed through his leathers overwhelming
him.
"H-hang on," he stuttered. "I'm, a-ah—"
Saïx licked a wet stripe over the tendon in his shoulder, timed with a slow
roll of his hips and Axel lost it, shuddering a little helplessly, thighs
pulling in tight around Saïx's sides, lanky arms clinging to Saïx's shoulders.
Saïx stood motionless for a few seconds as Axel breathed heavily into his hair,
then he pulled away a little, and Axel's legs dropped unsteadily back to the
ground.
"That was intense," Axel grinned, face relaxed and open. He felt sticky and
achy and shuddery and… that was close enough. "Hope you don't go rewarding
everyone like this, Supervisor."
Saix said nothing, but a bead of sweat rolled from his hairline.
"Do you want me to—to take care of…?"
Axel moved closer, toying with the zipper on Saïx's coat, but Saïx brushed his
fingers away, almost apathetically.
"No. You don't have to. Get some rest,
Saïx didn't like taking his coat off, Axel knew. Saïx didn't like coming in
front of him, Axel knew.
It didn't stop the emptiness inside him expanding and expanding with every step
Saïx took towards the door.
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