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Fraudulent	By : Aureawolf Category: Kingdom Hearts > Slash/Yaoi - Male/Male Views: 2547 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own Kingdom Hearts, nor any of the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
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Um…it’s kinda PWP. I mean, yeah, the point of this story was
to get these characters to have sex. But I really enjoyed writing it…kinda
became a character study. ^_^ Hope you enjoy it. It’s my first real smut for
the sake of smut..be gentle with me. ^_~

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“Don’t…Kairi…Riku…”

I stand in the shadows of the brightly decorated room,
watching the blond boy writhe on his bed. He was having another nightmare of
Sora’s memories. Memories far worse than any fifteen year old should be saddled
with.

He seems to have calmed down and I approach. This isn’t the
first time I’ve come to watch Roxas. When Diz and the others aren’t watching
the monitors, and I’m on my shift, I come here.

His white and black shirt has ridden up on his stomach and I
look at the way his muscles expand as he breathes deeply. There’s no point in
hiding it, the boy is too far gone into the memories to sense my presence.

I wonder what Mickey would say if he saw me? The sad
pathetic shell of a keyblade master, who lusts after the shell of another.

But now something different is happening. Not the same
pattern that the boy’s dreams seem to take lately. He is raising his hands, and
his whole body is squirming again.

In the faint blue glow of the boy’s nightlight, he looks too
much like Sora. Far too much.

My gloved hand is brushing across his forehead before I
realize it. He calms, and his bright blue eyes slowly open. But he doesn’t push
back across his bed, his eyes flying open in fear. Not like how I would have
expected.

He also doesn’t summon a keyblade to attack me, as he would
if he’d still been Nobody number thirteen.

“Riku?”

Now I’m the one who has backed up a step, and I don’t know
how to make the situation go away. I could open a portal and run away, safely
out of the digital and into the cold dank of the manor. But how could he know?

“I saw you in my dream. That’s your name,” Roxas says and
sits up, swinging his legs over the edge of his bed. His shirt has fallen back
to cover him up completely, and even in the confusion of the moment I am sad
that my time to enjoy his beautiful shell is over for tonight.

This still doesn’t make sense. If he has Sora’s memories he
should have called me Ansem. The boy is coming closer to me, he has guts I’ll
give him that. When he reaches slowly toward my face, like he’s approaching a
dangerous animal, I back away.

Roxas seems to be growing bolder by the minute, and this
time reaches forward straight for my eyes. It’s only then that I notice I’m
wearing my blindfold. What? How can that be?

His fingers press gently on the piece of cloth, where it
sits on my temple. He brushes along the edge, moving my hair from the blindfold
so his hands can find where it is tied together behind my head.

Why is he doing this? He shouldn’t be. We should be
fighting. He shouldn’t even exist.

When Roxas tilts his head to look at where the blindfold is
tied, his hair flops to the side, just like Sora’s.

His hands brush another piece of hair from my face, and I
see it as it falls back into place. It is the silvery blue hue I know. Ignoring
the fact that the blond has loosened my blindfold and slipped it down to hang
around my neck, I look around the room for a mirror.

There is one sitting above his desk, and in it I see myself.
As I was when I brought Roxas to this empty existence.

I look back at this pale shadow of the boy I’ve sworn to
protect. He is running his hands along my jaw, down to my shoulders as he
stares at me with those bright blue eyes. I’m sure the blue lighting is making
them even more intense than usual. So very much like Sora.

“Who are you really? Why do I see you in my dreams?”

Of course he wouldn’t know me. His memories are lost.

“I am Riku. I don’t know why you see me in your dreams,” I
just keep looking into those eyes. So curious. No trace of fear. Just how I
remember them. As I cup his face in my hands I draw close enough to brush the
tip of my nose against his. Now he is confused. I’m sure if I let go he would
run from me now.

“Maybe its destiny…” I press my lips to his, feeling the
twitch run through his body at the contact. Perhaps he was just still
half-asleep, and that’s why he hadn’t been afraid of me before. Now I feel him
pull away and I let him.

He wipes his lips on the back of his hand, though he doesn’t
seem disgusted. Just disconcerted by the feeling imprinted on his mouth by my
own.

“Why did you kiss me?” Now he looks more like the
Organization member I fought against in the World That Never Was. His body is
taught, those same muscles I’ve had time to examine and spy on while he was
left to my care. My poor unsuspecting charge. I’ve already seen more of him
than he could possibly imagine.

“I felt like it. I don’t need a reason to do something,”
I’ve become defensive again. I know why. My blindfold is gone. As is my other
form. I don’t know why though. Makes me feel open. And the kid in front of me
with his all too clear eyes isn’t helping the situation.

“Stop looking at me like that,” I say as I pull away. This
time his hands grip my arms and hold me still. It doesn’t take much effort from
him; I’m not really trying to get away.

“Is that why you were in my room? Do I…did I know you?”

The blond boy is shifting his weight back and forth. It must
be so uncomfortable. No memories, not sure if the man in front of you is an
enemy, a friend, a lover.

“You did. And now you know me again. Which do you prefer?” I
lean in, brushing my lips along his jaw with presses that couldn’t be
considered kisses. When I reach his ear I let my tongue brush against his
earlobe and feel his body squirm against mine. “The devil you know, or the
devil you don’t? I can be whichever you choose...”

At this moment I’m sure I could contemplate what this boy is
to me. Is he a replacement, a shadow, a stand-in? Or I could debate whether
having sex with a boy in a digital world even really counts. But, frankly, my
mind is otherwise occupied.

I can feel his uncertainty so I pull my face up and place a
soft kiss on his forehead. I’m taller than him so I can stand at my normal
height, and look down at his blushing, eager face. He has to make this
decision. I know too much. I know who he is replacing.

His fingers brush over my black trench coat, tangling
themselves in the beaded strings. I can’t imagine what’s going through his head
right now. In the quiet of his room I can hear his hitched breathing, and the
sound of his throat swallowing over and over out of anxiety.

Surely enough, his fingers find their way to my zipper and
nervously pull it down, watching my face to make sure that he hasn’t done
anything to break this tenuous moment. Sealing us together I reach my arms
around his waist and begin to brush along the soft skin under the hem of his
shirt. He tries to continue unzipping my coat, but is obviously distracted by
my fingertips along the waist of his sleep shorts.

My time is running short here, the longer I remain the
better chance I’ll be discovered. I pull away from Roxas and tear off my
gloves, throwing them to the ground. It’s not like I have to worry about where
they’ll end up after I leave.

Roxas seems to realize that my actions signaled my need to
hurry, and pulled his shirt over his head and threw it somewhere in the vicinity
of my gloves. His fumbling fingers against my chest bother me and I brush them
away, undoing the coat myself and letting it fall off me.

Before it even hits the floor I’m pressing the boy’s soft
body beneath mine on his bed. His eyes are lit by the same blue glow that
permeates his room, and in it I can see them flicking to the door nervously.

“My parents…”

I scrape my fingernails along the side of his ribs, and he
wriggles and cries out. Leaning down I murmur against his cheek, “Best work on
being quiet then.”

The pressing of his body against mine is becoming
frustrating and I pull away to take off his shorts but he is impatient. His
hands wrap around my neck and trap my hair, making it pull against my scalp. I
ignore my discomfort as he pulls me into a deep kiss, abandoning the hesitance
I felt in him earlier.

Back and forth we lick and nip each other, always ending
each foray with the same smacking sound of our lips parting gently. No matter
how fiercely our tongues and teeth, we always end with just that soft pressing
of our lips together, the afterglow of a kiss.

I don’t know which side of him my legs are, or where his
hands have gone. All I can focus on is slipping my fingers under his shorts. He
doesn’t push me away, or make any sign that he might want to. But I see him
bite his lip and turn to the side, which I don’t appreciate.

I’m the one who is supposed to be imagining him to be
someone else, not the other way around. I shift my weight to free my other hand
and brush it along his face, turning his eyes down to where my other hand has
snuck further under his straining shorts.

He groans but doesn’t look away, and I remove his boxers as
far as they will go, stretched across his tightened thighs. My hands curl
around his shaft and pump slowly, smirking as his eyes follow my hands and his
panting becomes erratic and his chest heaves out of time.

I can sympathize considering the situation, but he is
getting far too loud. Little grunts that escape and the louder longer moans are
going to attract attention in the silent home. I speed up one hand and with the
other gently cover his mouth.

“Shhh,” I say quietly. He nods and his eyes close, my fist
driving faster against him, rubbing against his lower stomach and sticking with
each pump.

He comes and grabs onto my arm with a bruising grip, giving
himself purchase as his hips jerk up in spasms. As I slow my stroking down he
slumps backwards onto his bed and I pull my hand away, absently wiping it on
his bed cover.

I climb off his bed and prepare to leave the digital world
when I feel his fingers brush against my jeans and hook into the pocket there.
He’s lying on the bed, his legs still spread, only held in their position by
his shorts still wrapped around his thighs.

“Don’t you want, you know…”

He pulls a bit more on my pants, bringing me closer to the
bed. I don’t think I’ll ever get tired of watching him breath, the muscles
straining and relaxing in such a real motion. Such a human thing. So deceiving.

Roxas moves his hand across the front of my pants and
presses against my crotch, knowing that I was still hard. But things are
different. I can’t continue this. Not now that I remember he’s just a husk.

I pull his infuriating hand away by the wrist and lean down
to seal his lips in a quick kiss.

“It’s wouldn’t be real for me,” he tries again to free
himself and close the distance between us for another kiss, but I pull away
while keeping his hand pinned to the bed.

“It isn’t even real for you.”

I can see him ready to argue but I put my hand over his eyes
and send him back to sleep. Back to the place where he remembers things he
shouldn’t. He’ll forget this soon enough. I leave the false Twilight
Town and return to the cold reality
of the mansion’s computer room.

My skin is still a sickeningly dark tan and my hands are too
big to be mine. On the computer Sora’s Nobody sleeps in his bed, an unknowing
victim of a voyeur gone too far.

Riku came out a bit creepier than I intended…but ah well.
^_^ Sorry if it wasn’t good smut…I’ll try to do better next time. But yay for
Riku/Roxas!! Come on people, jump on the ole bandwagon.
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