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The Night	By : mewsomniac Category: Kingdom Hearts > AU - Alternate Universe Views: 1695 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: NO profit is being made off this work. Kingdom Hearts, Final Fantasy, and Disney belong to their rightful owners, and I do not claim ANY ownership over their properties. FULL DISCLAIMER BELOW.

Chapter List
- 12
- 13
- 14
The Night
Chapter XII: Caffeine Daydream
February 22nd, 2026
           The snow in Dusk City was unlike any other. Due to the mixed climate, it would fall towards the earth as heavy, delicate flakes that would dissolve before ever hitting the ground. The air was moist and cold, and the snow would fall silently, but no evidence of it touching the earth was ever apparent. It was a beautiful kind of phenomena that made the city that extra bit of unique.
           In a quiet part of the city, Roxas is waiting in an alley. Wedged between nightclubs and industrial districts, this particular area is very rarely traveled by most due to the many possible dangers. However, to an extent, XIII himself is the danger. There is no fear here. He’d propped himself up against the cold brick: watching in silence as the snow makes it’s futile journey down from the clouds, his breath twisting in short-lived puffs of mist. Tonight holds the kind of warmish chill that leaves little clouds of steam drifting from the cement, as if to meet the snowflakes halfway in their battle for winter dominance.
           Beneath the glow of a distant street lamp, he’s waiting patiently for Sora to arrive. The meeting spot was the vampire’s idea, of course, as all vampires know about the city’s discreet hideaways by heart. He can’t help but think about how the air is dank with salty fog, a reminder of the ocean forever lingering nearby. He wonders about Sora’s silence for the couple months prior—the vampire hadn’t even called to wish him a happy Yuletide or New Year—as well as the sudden urgency for them to meet. The texts and calls that did eventually come ere fraught with Sora’s apologies and reassurances, but still no true answer as to why the vampire was behaving in such a way.
           When Sora does finally show up, it is as if he emerges from the shadows themselves—completely soundless. He simply steps into the light, the snow falling in a circle around him, as if he’d been transported from another realm. When they see one another, they both freeze in place.
           When Sora looks at Roxas, the vampire knows something is different. The uncertain individual he’d know before has vanished; in his stead stands a confident, calculating man with not a single shred of fear or doubt in his eyes. It makes Sora’s heart jump, and something carnal inside of him stirs. He wants to see what this new XIII is capable of, wants to smell the confidence on his breath, wants to taste the desire on his teeth…
           Sora’s mouth waters, but he remains still.
           Neither of them really know what to say, the silence hanging between them like a curtain of frost.
           Finally, Sora whispers, the mist of his breath quickly vanishing in the air, “Boo.”
           Roxas smiles, and it lights up Sora’s heart like the sun does the east. “Hi,” He responds, “I missed you.”
           Then there’s no space between them, and Sora’s arms are around him, and he is being pulled into a deep kiss. Roxas can feel a change in the air, an energy thrumming around them that hadn't been there before: an electric current lacing their molecules like a million tiny wedding knots. He kisses back.
           “I missed you so much.” Sora says, breaking away but coming back just as quickly.
           Their mouths part, their tongues meld, and Sora presses XIII fully against the cool brick. Lips are bitten, hair becomes interlaced in fingers, and mist drifts heavenward… as do moans, and sighs, and gasps.
           Without notice, Sora unlatches himself from Roxas and turns XIII around to face the wall.
           “What are you—”
           Sora’s breath comes hot and heavy to his ear, “I can’t help it… I need you.” The vampire's hands slide across his torso and down his hips. “Right here, right fucking now.” Sora tongue slips along his earlobe, and the combined sudden warmth leading to a subsequent chill gives him goosebumps.
           “What if someone walks by?” XIII asks as a logical courtesy, eager for the vampire’s advances anyway.
           “You can turn us invisible, right? And if it comes down to it, I can always Glamor someone into forgetting what they saw.”
           Roxas bites his lip. There’s no way he can maintain invisibility under these circumstances… but in all honesty, he could not give a fuck. He’s just as desperate for Sora as Sora is for him.
           Roxas whispers, “We have to be fast...”
           But Sora is already bunching up the cloak around Roxas’ waist. XIII’s hands go to his pants to undo the button and zipper; glancing over his shoulder, he sees the vampire is holding a condom packet by the corner between his teeth as he works to undo his own pants.
           Suspicious, Roxas asks wryly, “Were you planning this?”
           Confidently, Sora smiles and talks around the packet. “I wanted to be prepared. Plus, it’s an easier clean-up.”
           XIII really can’t argue with that, so he plants his hands against the wall and awaits what’s next. Sora tears the package open and rolls the condom on with expert ease, being mindful to keep his manhood warm against the winter chill, and spits onto himself a few times as makeshift lube. He rubs a few sweet circles around Roxas’ hole with his spit covered fingers, probing inward.
           “You don’t need to finger me.” Announces Roxas, “I’m ready.”
           Sora chuckles, “Were you planning this?”
           XIII rolls his eyes. Of course, he has been preparing himself with every masterbation session for when a time like this arrived, but… “Maybe not this exactly…”
           Rubbing his cock against Roxas’ entrance, Sora gently eases forward; slipping carefully a little in, out, and back in to make sure it’s comfortable for XIII. Roxas bites his lip again, this time to keep from making any loud noises, while wishing Sora would just plunge completely inside him.
           The tight heat of Roxas’ insides wrapped around Sora’s dick in contrast to the cold winter air, combined with the thrill of being out in the open, leaves the vampire’s head spinning. Still, he doesn’t want to give XIII too much too fast… he wants to draw it out for as long as he can. Gripping XIII’s hips with one hand and part of his cock with the other, he continues his small, torturous movements. Roxas, desperate for fullness, keeps trying to back his hips into Sora’s, and the vampire delights in the little whines that emanate from the blond’s throat.
           When Sora is completely inside of Roxas, the blond growls at him. “Hard and fast.” The vampire only hums in response, so XIII looks back at him. “Fuck me hard and fast.”
           No desperation, no whining, just pure confidence—perhaps a tinge of dominance? Sora drinks it right up, a wide grin cracking his face. He pulls himself out… and thrusts in forcefully. Then again, and again, faster and harder every single time. Roxas’ gloved hands grip tight into the brick, and Sora knows for a fact his lover is making that delicious ecstasy-ridden face. Reaching forward with one hand, the vampire’s fingers drift across Roxas’ cheek. His middle and index finger find XIII’s parted lips and slip between them, creating extra leverage for his thrusts. Roxas laps happily at the digits invading his mouth, moaning around them.
           Leaning forward, and doing his best to multitask, Sora unzips Roxas’ coat down to the end of his breastbone. Then, he grips it and yanks it over: exposing Roxas’ neck to the cold. Using the fingers in Roxas’ mouth, he turns XIII’s head away as his lips meet the exposed skin. He sucks and licks the space, barely waiting to plunge his teeth into the flesh and slurp the blood from the raw wounds. He can’t help the guttural moan that escapes him as the flavor of all that is divine coats his tongue and throat. He starts fucking XIII faster, having to remove the fingers from Roxas’ mouth to grab the blond’s a hip as his other holds the cloak in place for optimal feeding.
           Meanwhile, Roxas is beyond desperate to be touched. He bites the tip of a gloved finger and slips his hand out from the glove. He’s worried that his rock-hard member will shrink away once fully exposed to the cold, but is pleased to find that between his grip and Sora’s fervent behavior, his dick is completely fine. He begins stroking himself rapidly, almost violently. The precum drips in long milky strings down to the pavement below as Sora fucks and sucks his own way to pure bliss.
           In fact, bliss has just about arrived for the vampire. The combination of stimuli and how desperately he’s longed for Roxas has reached a crescendo in his body, and he unloads—hot, heavy, and thick—into the condom. Since Roxas hasn’t cum yet, he does his best to keep thrusting despite the white hot mix of pain and pleasure that continues to milk him of his ejaculate—and what seems like his soul? It’s quite possible with how wrenching the sensation is. The blond tightens around him suddenly, and there’s a cry through clenched teeth as Roxas orgasms as well: globs of cum splashing against the brick in a seemingly endless flood of pleasure from his cock.
           Pulling himself out, Sora’s body twitches as he flops his back against the brick; trying desperately not to completely fall over. They both stay there, exposed and panting for a few long seconds... before they remember they’re still technically in public. XIII quickly wipes his hand on his briefs before putting his glove back on and fixing his pants. Sora haphazardly discards the heavily-filled condom, knotting it off and flinging it Goddess-knows-where, before he also goes to fix his pants.
           Roxas casts a brief healing spell, and the wounds close up in a few seconds. Sora notices there’s still a little blood on the blond’s collarbone, so he pulls Roxas into him to gently lick it away. Roxas giggles a bit, and Sora mutters into his neck. “This is a pretty potent spell. That bite healed really fast.”
           “Is it?” XIII responds, “It’s just one that Marluxia taught me. I didn’t realize how powerful it was.”
           The vampire pulls away and the two make eye contact, a pleased look on both of their faces. Sora says, “It’s fucking cold. Coffee?”
           Roxas only nods, and they wobble their glowing selves elsewhere.
           They decided to wash up and sit at a nearby diner to escape the quickly worsening weather. 24-hour establishments are almost always busy and typically filled to the brim with nightwalkers, but this particular one was actually very quiet. They’d both assumed it was because of a concert going on in the area, which was sucking up all the local business like a black hole of rumbling bass. Once the show got out, the diner would certainly be stuffed with patrons and their severe cases of post-show munchies.
           With Sora’s help, Roxas ordered an Irish Coffee; the vampire got something similar with blood instead of cream, which they called an Irish Batty. Roxas finds it to be a little gross, but says nothing about it for the time being.
           As they catch up, Sora finds himself disappointed—almost repulsed, in fact—by the drink he’s politely sipping. Normally he loves all forms of blood beverages, especially as far as coffee goes, but something about it tastes sub-par. He ponders if it could be lackluster brewing, quality of blood, maybe even brand of whiskey… there’s a richness lacking there, a complexity of flavor completely missing from the—
           “Sora?” Roxas’ voice snaps the vampire out of his daze, “You okay? You’ve been taking a really, really long sip of your drink.”
           The vampire notices what he’s doing and quickly puts the glass mug down. “Ah, sorry… something about it tastes weird to me.”
           Roxas cocks an eyebrow, “As weird as blood and coffee can taste, I’m guessing.”
           “If you ever become a vampire and need your morning fix, I promise you won’t be complaining much then.”
Chuckling, XIII twists his own mug between his palms, looking down into the creamy mixture as if reading the foam for guidance. “Listen… if we really are going to do this… if we really are going to team up… there’s something I need to ask you.”
           “Shoot,” Sora replies, taking a begrudging gulp of his Irish Batty.
           “On the field, I want you to promise you won't use your glamor. Not unless our lives are on the line.”
           The vampire chokes a little on the thick liquid, stifling a surprised cough. “Wh… What?”
           “I mean it, Sora. I’ve been really thinking about it... if we rely on it too much, neither of us will be able to get stronger. And what happens when word gets out that we have mind control at our advantage? Who knows what the consequences of that will be? When we need it, it’ll be our ace in the hole. Nobody will be expecting it.”
           Sucking in an unsure breath of air, Sora contemplates this. Roxas does have a very fair point: if they rely on his glamor too much they won't get very far with improving their new abilities. If they run into a situation where he can’t glamor anyone, they could be pretty fucked.
           “...okay.” The vampire says, “I’ll save it for tough situations—”
           “Dire.” Roxas corrects him, jabbing a finger in his companion’s direction.
           “...Dire situations. I promise.” Roxas thanks him, and Sora adds, “Now, onto more important matters.” The vampire fishes around in his knapsack and pulls out a holotablet. “I got my bureaucratic privileges back, so I’ve spent these last couple months doing some digging.” He hands the device to Roxas, beaming. “Happy belated Yuletide.”
           XIII is completely astonished, and he gingerly takes the device from Sora’s hands, treating it more like a fragile piece of glass than sturdy tech. “Is this…?”
           The vampire prince nods, “Your brother is a tricky man to find.”
           Feeling a sudden anxiousness grip him, Roxas powers the holotablet on and a hovering screen appears before him. He flicks through the digitized paperwork, warily scanning each page. “No photos?”
           “Either he or somebody else didn’t want him found. It looks like someone went in and removed the major information on him that could lead to his whereabouts or identification: photos, adresses, whatever. His taxes are up-to-date somehow, but there’s no real info attached to them.”
           XIII peers at him through the hologram, “How can someone be on and off the grid at the same time?”
           “That is an excellent question. I think we should go ask him ourselves.” Roxas gapes at him in unsure silence, so Sora continues. “The last lead I got was through his changed name: Strife.”
           Roxas scoffs, Strife, huh? That’s so Cloud.
           “There’s hundreds of different results for ‘Strife’ across various files, people, places, social profiles… but there’s only one Strife if you look for Zack Fair. Our mystery man is a dishonorably discharged Shinra veteran, who died a little while after your mom. There isn’t much information on him either… except a few things. Out of all the jobs he’s worked since his discharge, I found this.” He reaches forward and taps an application icon, and a website for a restaurant and bar comes up.
           “It’s just a restaurant.” Roxas says.
           Sora shakes his head, “That’s what I thought too, so I started looking for more information on the website itself. Wouldn’t you know, the phone number is the same…” He flicks to another webpage, “...as this?”
           Throat tightening, Roxas reads the website title over and over again in his head.
           Strife Delivery Service.
           “On your brother’s taxes, there are a bunch of business forms filed… but it’s all registered as self-employed.”
           “Which would make sense for a delivery service.”
           Sora nods, “It could just be a crazy coincidence… but it’s worth checking out at least.”
          “Sora, I… I don’t know how to thank you...”
           “It’s fine, Rox—”
           But Roxas is already clamoring out of the booth and over to him, melding his lips against whatever exposed skin is prevalent on Sora’s face, whispering his gratitude with every breath.
Sora isn’t sure what he should feel as they ascend the stairs. After all, it’s been quite some time since he last stepped foot in the Sierra Octavia apartments, and they’ve both come a long way since then. Moreover, he realizes that he’s never actually scaled these stairs before, and approaching Roxas’ apartment door for the first time feels pretty surreal. Still, as strangely terrifying as this is, it’s important to Roxas; so he tries to walk with as much confidence as he can.
           The door unlocks, and XIII opens it to reveal the living room of the apartment, which was until now a mystery to Sora. Sitting inside are two lanky men playing video games and a petite woman doodling in an armchair.
           “I’m home,” Roxas calls, “And I brought a friend.”
           Nearly in unison, all eyes lock onto Sora and he feels himself shirking under the attention.
           “H-Hi. I’m Sora—”
           Roxas’ roommates scramble over to the door, wildly beckoning him inside, introducing themselves, and directing him to have a seat on the couch. Namine practically flings herself into the kitchen, saying something about fixing tea, as Axel and Demyx shove a controller into Sora’s grasp. They ask Sora all sorts of probing questions in between instructions for the game they’re playing and Sora does his best to keep up with the torrent of information. Eventually Namine returns with tea, and Sora’s cup is a significant shade of crimson in comparison to the others. When Roxas questions her about it, she happily tells him that she’s had this special blend since XIII’s initiation; foreseeing a possible future meeting with Sora and choosing to be prepared.
February 23rd, 2026
           Outside the apartment, Roxas stares down at his phone, a knot forming tightly in his stomach. The time reads 10:37 am, and a number is dialed out on the screen... but his hand hovers uncertainty over the call button. Sora watches from over his shoulder, trying to come up with worlds of encouragement but unable to decide on the right ones.
           “What if it’s not right?” Roxas says, “And I mean… what if someone else found him? You seemed to do it pretty easily after a little digging. What if we’re too late? What if—“
           “Roxas,” The vampire interrupts. “Call the number.”
           The blond pauses for a long second… then taps the call button. He puts it on speaker so Sora can hear, and they listen to the line ringing with bated breath. Roxas is in the middle of wondering whether or not someone will answer when a woman’s voice resonates from the phone.
           “Hello! 8th Heaven Restaurant and Bar! How may I help you?”
           Startled a little bit, Roxas sputters. “Hi, uh… I’m actually looking for Cloud. Cloud Strife?”
          There’s a hesitation… then, “I’m sorry, he just left to make a delivery. May I ask who’s calling?”
           After swallowing hard he says, “This is his younger brother, Roxas. I’ve been looking for him—” There’s an abrupt sound of something shattering, and Roxas’ heart jumps. “Ma’am?! Are you okay?!”
           There’s a pause, but both men can just barely detect shuddering breath on the line. “Oh… oh shit!” There’s a slight commotion in the background before they hear what sounds like glass scraping along wood. “I’m sorry, I just… is it really you, Roxas? It can’t be, you’re… but they never confirmed… oh shit, this is a mess…”
           “I promise, it really is me. I’m not sure how I can prove it to you, and I don’t know if you’ll believe me… but I have to see my brother.”
She takes a few deep breaths. “Listen, judging by the way he was acting this morning I’m not sure when Cloud will be back. If you are who you say you are, then please come over here as soon as you can.”
           “I’m heading there right now, actually.”
           “Good. I’ll be ready for you, one way or another. Also, I’ll try calling Cloud, but I don’t think he’ll answer. There’s a lot we need to talk about.”
           “What was your name?”
           “I’m Tifa. I’ll see you soon… Roxas.”
           The line goes dead.
            Outside 8th Heaven, Cloud kicks down the side stand of his motorbike and latches his helmet onto the front.
           A voice from behind him asks, “Are you absolutely sure about this? It sounds like Tifa hates me… she wasn’t exactly thrilled to meet me the first time.”
           “A little too late to back down now, Leon. Like I said, I’m sure once she gets to know you a little more and sees there’s nothing to worry about, she’ll warm up to you.”
           “Except she has everything to worry about.” Leon corrects him, swinging himself off the bike and putting his borrowed helmet down.
           “She doesn’t need to know that, she just needs to be put at ease. I promise it’ll make everything easier in the long run.”
           Cloud is a long-time friend and confidant, but the blond had questionable intentions for his mercenary status. Leon didn’t mind helping him, and they made a surprisingly good team, but this whole working in the shadows thing was becoming more of a pain than it was worth. It was hard to get anything done with Cloud leading a double life. Leon, whose birth name is actually Squall Leonhart, shows his disdain by pinching his brow.
           Cloud sighs, “Don’t pinch your brow at me, Squall.”
           “Don’t call me Squall, Highwind.”
           The blond glowers at him, and Leon sighs. “I’m sorry. Look, you and I both know that you’re better off just telling Tifa the truth. No more sneaking around, no more lies, no more bullshit. If she has a problem, that sucks because it’s your life. Not hers.”
           “And not yours either.” Cloud adds, “Please, Leon. I know it seems ridiculous but I can promise you this is the best way I can deal with this situation right now. Just help me.”
           Leon groans in exasperation, “Fine. But you owe me.”
           They approach the door, and Cloud notices the neon holosign is set to Closed instead of Open. A strange sensation creeps into him, and he suddenly feels the need to make sure Tifa is okay. Hurriedly, he pulls the door handle and it barely begins to creak open when Tifa comes barreling toward him from inside.
           “Cloud, I’ve been calling you nonstop! Why didn’t you answer your phone?”
           “I just—uh, what’s going on?”
           She ushers them in, seemingly innocuous to Leon’s presence. “You’re not going to believe me, but…”
           A voice drifts from the dining room, “Cloud?”
           His eyes move to where a young man clad in a cloak is standing. Completely taken aback, Cloud finds the man looks almost exactly like his little brother. He looks to Leon and Tifa, making absolutely sure they too can see the figure; finding himself unsure as to whether or not it’s an apparition that’s come to haunt him.
           “There’s no way.” He says, finally. “There’s no way it’s you. Roxas… Roxas is…”
The young man walks to him and reaches behind his neck with both hands. He then pulls a silver chain from out of his cloak and holds it in the air between them: the silver X shining in the morning light. Cloud has flashbacks to their childhood, the tears coming for the first time in ages, and he knows that it really is his little brother.
           “I’m here.” Roxas says, choking up, “I finally found you.” Cloud closes the space between them and scoops him into a crushing hug as they both release their tears. “You said you’d come back—“
           “I did.” Cloud sobs into him, “I did, I came back for you but…” He pulls away, “Roxas, they think you’re dead. They said you killed yourself. You left a note and everything.”
           Shocked, Roxas can’t help but laugh. “They thought it was a suicide note? Actually, that doesn’t surprise me… those fucking people will blow anything out of proportion.”
           Cloud can’t help but laugh as well, “I was skeptical too… but dad… Cid, seemed pretty convinced. I didn’t know what to think.”
           “Wait, you talked to dad? Did you go to Twilight Town?”
           “I came to pick you up the day after your high school graduation. I promised I’d come back for you, didn’t I?”
           Roxas laughs, but those laughs quickly turn into sobs, “I can’t believe it… this whole time, all I had to do was wait. And I can’t believe you had to go through that… I’m so sorry.”
           Cloud hugs him again, “No apologies. I should have tried harder, but I’m just glad you’re alive and okay. How did you find me?”
           They break apart finally, Roxas pocketing the necklace and beckoning Sora, who was politely facing away from the scene, to come over. Sora looks to Cloud, but his gaze quickly snaps to Leon (who is also politely turned away) and he fumbles for his necklace. He slips it underneath his shirt, total disbelief etched on his features, both of which Roxas finds odd.
           “This is Sora. He’s my partner, and part of the local vampire covenant.” Leon’s head swivels to them, and Cloud seems surprisingly impartial. “He helped me track you down, and we found out what… happened to mom.”
           Collectively, the aforementioned three sag their shoulders in a somber manner.
           “Say no more,” Cloud sighs, “I figured you’d want to talk about that.”
           “Cloud,” Leon comes to him, “I’m sorry to interrupt, but maybe I should head out. I don’t know if you want me here for this.”
           The older blond crosses his arms, looking warily at the floor. “Actually, Leon… maybe it’s finally time.”
           Leon puts his hands on his hips. “Is this you officially admitting I’m right?”
           Pretending he didn’t hear him, Cloud says, “Everybody, sit. Tifa, let’s make some coffee.”
           Tifa mutters under her breath about having a blood packet somewhere and zips off to the kitchen. Cloud tails her as the remaining three sit down at a large table.
           “Sorry,” Roxas says to Leon, “I don’t think I caught your name.”
           “It’s Leon.” Sora makes a sour face at this, and Leon spots it out of the corner of his eye. “I’ve been Cloud’s friend for a long time now.” Squinting his eyes at the vampire, he lowly asks, “Do I know you from somewhere?”
           Sora, refusing to make eye contact, responds, “Nope, and I’d definitely remember it if you did.”
           Unconvinced, Leon responds, “...right.”
Cloud and Tifa return shortly with trays of coffee-filled mugs, creamer, and sweeteners, then get the drinks situated around everyone. As Cloud sits, Roxas dumps creamer into his mug and his older brother nudges him.
           “Shit, kid, you want some coffee with that creamer?” They share a knowing giggle.
           Tifa asks Sora, “Does yours taste alright? We don’t get many nightwalkers, so I don’t have much blood on hand.”
           Sora takes a swig and nods, “It’s a little stale, but it’s just fine. Thanks so much!”
           Looking over the table, Cloud observes as everyone gets comfortable. The scene is an odd mixture of casual comfort and dread: like getting drinks before a funeral reception. He soaks up the last seconds of peace before he speaks, choosing to rip the bandaid clean off.
           “Leon’s been helping me find the Necromancer.”
           There’s a quick breath of shock, and Tifa slams a fist down onto the table—everybody shrinks away in surprise. Roxas is astonished she didn’t smash it with the intensity of her strike. “I knew it! Cloud, I was really hoping you were doing something else… anything else… I was even hoping you’d gotten back into the mercenary business...”
           ‘Mercenary business?’ Roxas thinks, casting a bemused glance at his brother.
Tifa continues, “But the Necromancer?! Are you completely out of your mind?!”
           “Who is ‘the Necromancer’?” Roxas asks.
           “Roxas—” Tifa starts, but Cloud cuts her off.
           “He murdered mom.” Looking down into his mug, he growls through clenched teeth, “He ripped her and Zack to fucking pieces, and they didn’t leave me a single clue to find him.”
           “They did it for a reason, Cloud,” Tifa says, “They knew you’d go after him, so they left you out of the loop on purpose. You have to understand—”
           “So what?” Cloud’s voice is low, “You’re suddenly the expert in all of this? Do you have any fucking idea how painful this whole thing has been for me? I lost my entire family in only a few years.”
           Tifa stands, hot tears rushing down her cheeks. “I’m your family too, you fucking idiot! You think this hasn’t been hard for me? Seeing how badly you’re hurting, but you won't let me help you no matter how much I try?! Living with your sorry ass every single day hasn’t been easy, you know?! I feel like I’m your mother, lecturing you on sneaking out and hanging out with weird guys!” She wipes her face, “Did you ever think that maybe I just want to be there for you? That I care about you because you’re the only family I have left?!”
           The room is covered with a heavy, uncomfortable fog of silence. Time seems to sit still, the only motion coming from everyone’s breathing and Tifa’s tears hitting the table.
           Quietly, Roxas shatters the fog with “I’ll do it.” All eyes turn to take in his determined face. “You don’t have to do it anymore, Cloud. I’ll find the Necromancer.”
           “Between the two of us,” Sora cautiously adds, “I think we’ve got a pretty decent chance.”
           Cloud shakes his head, “I was wondering why you were wearing an Organization uniform. After all...”
           “I help source their weapons.” Leon finishes.
           Tifa’s face twists in disgust, “You two—”
           “Tifa, wait,” Roxas interjects, “I know you’re upset at Cloud for doing this but… then you should be mad at me too. The reason I left Twilight Town and joined the Organization is because I needed answers and I wanted to get stronger. I wanted to be able to fight my own battles, and solve my own problems. I think…” His eyes water, but his voice is somehow unwavering. “I think that’s just who we are because of my mom.”
           Tifa’s face softens suddenly, as if struck by a forgotten memory. The tears come back to her, and she covers her mouth with a hand. They can just barely hear her mumble, “That’s right. Aerith…”
           Abruptly, Leon stands, “It sounds like we all have a stake in this, whether we realize it or not. I say we stop trying to do this on our own. Let’s start working together.”
           Sounds of agreement circle the table, but Tifa remains silent.
           Cloud says to her, “You can help us, Tifa. You and I both know how strong you really are.”
           Holding out her palm, Tifa looks down at it and makes a stiff fist. Softly, she asks, “How much do you trust Leon?”
           As if on cue, the men lock eyes, and Sora immediately recognizes the look on their faces: trusting, caring, loving…
           “With my life,” Cloud breathes, and Leon cracks a smile.
           “Oh my Goddess…” Sora says under his breath, and Roxas raises an eyebrow at the vampire.
           “Roxas, I know you wouldn’t have brought Sora here if you didn’t trust him as well.” She sighs before crossing her arms in consideration and sitting back down. “...what information do you guys have so far?”
           Leon nods to Cloud who nods back, and the older blond gets out of his seat to journey upstairs. He returns a moment later with a large holotablet, which he powers on and sets in the middle of the table. Within a few seconds, he’s flipping through files in the air between them.
           “Some of the only information I ever got from mom and Zack was the nickname of the man they were after: The Necromancer. Supposedly, he’s been the cause for a lot of chaos across the globe, but nobody has been able to track him. He’s always one step ahead of anyone who tries to find him… from the records we’ve gathered, mom and Zack were the only ones who got close, which is why they were murdered.” He sighs heavily, “They never told me why they were after him. They never kept documents of their progress, they never talked about what they found… I only ever found out two things: his nickname, and his signatures.”
           “Signatures?” Roxas questions.
           Cloud pulls up an image of an ancient-looking parchment, which is scrawled upon with some old-world tongues. The page is signed with a very specific symbol.
           “It’s one of the only consistent clues we’ve been able to find,” Leon adds, “We’ve also found other documents referencing his work, but it’s all over the place. We just can’t seem to pinpoint where he is. But wherever he goes, whatever havok he causes, he leaves the same thing to signify he’s been there.”
           Cloud pulls up a series of photos, each with an identical alchemic circle. They range from neoclassical paintings, to illustrations, to grainy photographs, to crime scene pictures—spread completely across time and location.
           Sora speaks up, “How do you know it was the same person who killed your mother?”
           There’s a brief pause. “Sorry, Roxas,” Cloud mutters as he scrolls through the pictures. “We did a little… illegal digging around… and lifted these from a police report.” The pictures quickly become more gruesome; Tifa looks away in discomfort and Roxas recognizes the photoset, his stomach turning. As quickly as he can, Cloud chooses a photo where a scrawl of gore is next to Aerith’s body. Dacă mă cauți pentru mine, vei fi următorul is inscribed in blackish blood above the same symbol as before.
           Leon says, “As soon as I saw the picture, I knew it was Romanian.”
           “‘If you’re looking for me, you’ll be next’.” Sora translates.
           Cloud nods solemnly, “When we started looking for the symbol, we began finding these documents. From there, we found that circle.” He pulls up side-by-side images of the symbol embedded in several areas of the circles.
           “Sorcerers and spellcasters haven’t used custom alchemic circles for hundreds of years, I’ve been told it completely fell out of fashion after the Witch Wars.” Sora says, tapping his chin. “And those symbols… this guy must have been around for ages. Why was your mom after him?”
           Leon sighs, “That’s where the trail keeps running cold. We have an idea of who this guy is and what he does, but that’s it. That’s all we’ve been able to find. I’ve even tried getting closer with the Organization to see if I could get any information from them, but I’ve gotten nothing so far.” He regards Roxas, “At least… not until today.”
           Roxas shakes his head, “I’m still a spark—er, a novice. I asked for Sora’s help because I’m still too new for them to trust me with information like that.”
          Sora crosses his arms, “Still, at least now we have a place to start. I think I know a guy who can give us some more information on the Necromancer.”
          XIII asks, “Can you send me all of this?”
          As they exchange contact information, Roxas can’t help but ask, “So… you’re a mercenary?”
          Cloud looks away and Roxas can see Tifa hanging her head in shame. “It hasn’t been a pretty side gig, but yes.”
          “It hasn’t been pretty for any of us,” She adds.
          “You do what you gotta to survive.” Leon says.
          Roxas asks, “All these years… Cloud, what’s been going on?”
          Cloud takes a deep breath. “The day mom and I left, she told me that she had to tell dad a lie. The biggest lie she’d ever told: that I wasn’t his son.”
          A surge of pain wells up in Roxas’ body, yet all he can feel is relief. He knew deep down in his heart that Cloud was his true brother by blood and soul, no matter how much his father chose to say the opposite.
          Cloud goes on to explain that it was the only way their mom could get him moved out of the house without being fought by their father. She didn’t want to leave Roxas, but she thought for sure that their father would give up custody of his younger son in the face of single parenting. Instead, it only stoked the fires beyond their imagination. She lived and worked with Tifa’s mother and Zack at 8th Heaven, which was built in Dusk City after the original restaurant—7th Heaven—collapsed in Midgar. Aerith decided she would keep trying to contact Roxas, and when he turned 18 and graduated highschool, they would come get him. Then, Aerith was murdered, Zack soon followed, then Tifa’s mother died… so, hurting for cash, they turned to the mercenary business. Cloud didn’t meet Leon until after Tifa quit to keep the bar afloat, and Cloud made Tifa assume he quit too since the business had fortunately become stable.
         “All this time,” Roxas says, “I thought mom just abandoned me. I thought you both gave up on me.”
         “I can’t honestly blame you for feeling that way. Dad made it impossible to get in contact with you, and it’s not like anybody else in the town was willing to help us either. We tried everything short of showing up at the house… but mom knew how dangerous that would have been for all of us.”
          Roxas chuckles, “She had a strange concept of danger if she wouldn’t come back to get me, but decided to go after this mysterious Necromancer.”
         “That’s why this whole thing has been such a damn mess,” Cloud admits, “What reason could she possibly have to pursue him? What secret did she have to keep to protect us?”
         “Maybe…” Tifa hazards a guess, “Maybe it was such a significant reason that it would have completely turned both your worlds upside down. I know it’s a given, considering who Aerith was… but maybe the pain of unanswered questions was less brutal in her eyes than the truth.”
          This deeply unsettles everyone in the room. Everyone has secrets… but is there truly one out there worth taking to such a violent grave? A wave of uncertainty rushes into the dining room, and suddenly each person begins questioning the value of this ambivalent quest.
          Standing, Roxas announces, “Well, mom isn’t here to tell us what we should do… so let’s just finish what we started. No more slowing down, no more questioning. Dilly-dally, shilly-shally.”
          A round of modest smiles grace the room, as do nods of agreement.
          Leon adds, “Can’t argue with that.”
          Sora and Roxas parted ways with the three and caught a SolurSaylr up to the Covenant mansion. On the way there, Sora was contemplating the situation aloud, and Roxas was trying really hard not to freak out. The excitement from finding his brother was still rattling around his brain, on top of the fact this will be the first time he’s ever visited the vampire mansion. It was all very stressful. Somewhat delightful, and especially worrying. Although it seemed the Covenant and the Org were on good terms, it felt somehow impolite to intrude on their turf with no warning; even the time King Mickey showed up to HQ was likely coordinated beforehand with the Superior. Sora must have noticed how rapidly Roxas’ heart was pounding because he stopped mid-contemplation to point out how rapidly Roxas’ heart was pounding.
         “It’s gonna be fine. Some of the other vampires may be a bit surprised, but they might also be totally stoked. We don’t get many visitors.” He trails his fingers through XIII’s hair, “You should pull your hood up, though. Vampires love a good mystery.”
          When they reach the wrought-iron fortress/mansion hybrid, Roxas was completely blown away. He was expecting big and bold, but this was massive and audacious. The SolurSaylr pulls up to the security box, and Sora rolls down the window to speak with the scowling attendant, known by his name tag as Kev. Unbeknownst to Roxas, Kev is actually pretty lucky to still have the same job on the property after the shit that went down many months ago.
          The gate creaks heavily open, and before he knows it, the car is pulling around the courtyard fountain. As they exit the vehicle and bid the driver farewell, Roxas almost feels like he’s in a horror film. The way the fortress leers over them, the burbling fountain glinting in the light, the giant maw of a door staring at them… it’s all pretty intimidating. Yet Sora eases him along, leading him up the short set of steps so the vampire can reach a glowing hand-scanning pad. The door unlocks, and Sora pushes it open to reveal a majestic foyer, completely drenched in black, white, and red; a double-sided staircase straddles the room, which is filled to the brim with busy vampires hustling to and fro. Some of them notice Sora and their faces light up.
          “Welcome home, Your Highness!” One chirps respectfully, which draws the attention of others.
          Sora glances around uncertainty at first, but then a look of realization crosses his face. “Oh! You’re talking to me! No need for formalities. Like, ever, if possible.”
          He hears someone mutter, “That cloak…”
          “Who’s your friend?” Another asks.
          “This is XIII.” He gestures to Roxas, grinning, “He’s in the Organization.”
         Much to Roxas’ chagrin, this small group of curious vampires starts clamoring to speak with him.
          “Are you really a spellcaster?”
          “Show us some real magick!”
          “What’s your pay like?”
          “Sick clothes!”
          “Who makes your coats?”
          “Can you put a hex on someone for me?”
          Sora’s voice cuts through the chatter, “Hey, hey, hey! We have important business to do, so everybody calm down! Besides, this isn’t the last time you’ll see him… after all,” Sora pulls Roxas in by the waist, pressing his face close and flashing a mischievous look to his compatriots, “He’s my lover.”
          The fuss ceases for a long second… but then it quickly starts again as now the group is freaking out over this new information. Sora leads Roxas through the chattering crowd, waving them off dismissively, and brings him down one of the many hallways branching off from the foyer.
          “Seems like you caused quite the fuss,” Roxas laughs. “Was that totally necessary?”
          “I thought it’d be funny. I was right. They’re gonna be gossiping about it for weeks. Vampires tend to eat that shit up, it gives their unending lives a little extra pizazz. What kind of prince would I be if I didn’t bring a little whimsy to my subjects’ lives?” Sora guffaws at himself.
          Eventually, they reach an impressively tall cherry wood door with a tall man standing before it.
          “Hey!” Sora calls, “Riku!”
          Said lycanthrope responds simply, “Yo.”
          Sora feels incredibly proud because he’s made it up to 30 words with Riku as of late, which is amazing progress in his eyes. Confidently, he gestures to Roxas. “Riku, you remember Roxas. I know you guys haven’t formally-formally met, what with two times you being a werewolf and the other… well, you know.”
          Roxas pulls his hood off sheepishly, “Hi… Riku.” He gestures to the wereman’s scar. “Look, I’m still really sorry about—”
          “Roxas. It’s okay. I know you didn’t do it on purpose. Are you wearing the necklace now?”
          “Oh, um… no, it’s in my pocket, actually.”
          The silver-haired man leans down suddenly and pulls Roxas into a gentle hug. Completely taken off guard, Roxas only freezes up under the contact.
          “Thank you,” Riku says, “For making me realize what’s most important to me.”
          “Uh… you’re welcome?” XIII replies politely, stiffly giving the man a gentle pat on the back.
          Riku releases Roxas, and turns to Sora. “I know you’ve been counting the words I’ve said to you.”
          Make that 41. Sora shrugs, “Kind of hard not to.”
          Riku then grabs the vampire by the shoulders and pulls him into his side. “I’ll forgive you for running off if you forgive me for the cold shoulder.”
          Sora smiles, “It’s already forgiven!”
          “And no more secrets, alright? You’re like my brother. You don’t have to hide anything else from me. I can handle your bullshit, you know.”
          “Will do.”
          “Well, now!” A voice graces them from the hallway, and they turn to see the King approaching them, followed closely by someone else. “Glad to see you two are getting along again. And is that XIII I see?” He stops at the door to stand with the other three. Roxas notices the girl behind him has gorgeous ruby locks and striking indigo eyes, her pink dress clinging sweetly to all of her curves. “It’s good to see you again. I’m sorry I didn’t formally introduce myself, I have a penchant for the flighty and mysterious.”
          Roxas bows his head graciously. “It’s a pleasure to officially meet you, Your Majesty. My name is Roxas, but you can keep calling me XIII if you’d like.”
          “The pleasure is all mine, XIII.”
          “Hi there,” The girl coos at him, “I’m Kairi. It’s nice to meet you.”
          Roxas is so taken by her eyes, which have a similar swirl to Sora’s, that he barely registers her name. “N-nice to meet you.” He says, trying to sound as polite as possible despite how weird it feels talking to the woman who broke Sora’s heart. She only simpers at him, seemingly used to making men feel speechless.
          “Let’s step inside,” Mickey says, “Your message sounded urgent.”
          On their way to the mansion, Sora had called Mickey and left a disgruntled message when there was no answer. When he called Kairi, she didn’t answer either. Then, he called Riku to see if the King was in his study, and Sora’s word counter hit 29 when the werewolf answered with a single “no” before hanging up. He must have seemed frantic to all of them, because they all showed up at Mickey’s study to investigate.
          “How do you even open a door this big? It must be heavy.” Roxas says.
          Sora, Kairi, and Riku all roll their eyes as the King smiles with glee. “I’m so glad you asked!” He opens up the smaller door within the door, and Roxas gasps.
          “Wow, that’s amazing!”
          The King chuckles in a very unmodest manner, “It really is, isn’t it?” They all step inside, XIII marveling at the room. “Now, then. What can I do for you fellows?”
          “We’re looking for someone,” Sora responds, “and I have a feeling you may be able to help us. Roxas?”
          XIII takes out his phone and within a few seconds pulls up the images Cloud showed them. He presents the device to Mickey, who takes it; a curious Kairi and Riku leering over his shoulders. His Majesty almost immediately recognizes the contents of the pictures, and he looks at Roxas with very serious eyes.
          “Where did you find this information?”
          “Through my brother. We have evidence that this man, The Necromancer… murdered our mom and her friend. They got really close to tracking him down.”
          The King lets out a long sigh. “I can assure you, this is no mere man. His name is said to be lost in time, and he goes by hundreds of different monikers.”
          “What, is he Rumplestiltskin or something?” Sora asks.
          “If he were, perhaps it would be easier to find him. How your mother was able to do it is beyond me... he’s like the boogeyman of history. You can find evidence of him everywhere, but he himself is a mystery.” He flicks through more of the photos, scrutinizing them as best as he can on the small screen. “Still, it seems that there’s a pretty detailed record of his activity here. I’m afraid there’s not much more information I could give you. I’m sorry.” Roxas takes the phone back, saddened but appreciative.
          “What can you tell us about personalized magick circles?” Sora asks.
          “It’s a type of magic called persona symbola. It’s very similar to carving magick, but significantly less powerful. In this case, you tailor your circle to your specific needs, or personality, typically using symbols in your name or that represent you. Then, you can seal the circle and use it as frequently as you please, but only you can use it.”
          “How can it be less powerful?”
          “It’s pretty much just a giant pain in the ass. Usually because there’s no one specific purpose for the circle, the magick becomes diluted to account for the variety of possibilities. The greater the variety of symbols and intentions you have for a circle, the less powerful it becomes. That’s why you’ll notice most magick and alchemic circles have very specific characters; it’s because you’re concentrating the influx of magick… kind of like holding a magnifying glass under sunlight.” The King shrugs, “That’s why it’s fallen out of fashion, it’s too much effort for too little of a return. The Necromancer must be using his as a signature more than anything else.”
          Roxas says, “Looks like we’ve gotta hit the books. Thank you for your time, Your Majesty.”
          Sora groans, “Well, back to square… whatever square this is.” Noticing Roxas looks a little crestfallen at their minimal progress, he slings an arm over XIII’s shoulders and begins leading him out of the study. “Come on, Roxas, I know what’ll cheer you up. Let me show you my room!”
          “I’m not sure if that—”
          “It’ll be great, I promise!”
          Riku and Kairi glance to the King, awaiting any orders. His Majesty waves them off, “I have some paperwork I need to file, I’ll be out shortly.” The two leave wordlessly, shutting the door behind them.
          Mickey drags his feet over to the chaise and slumps completely into it with a harried groan. He really hates lying to people, especially the ones he cares about, but it really is for the best. The Necromancer is too dangerous for anyone to go after alone, and he would know… he’s tried. He’s pursued the bastard for years, and had come close to death several times because of it. No matter what it takes, he can’t let them go after The Necromancer… not until they’ve become stronger, at least. Still, giving them a little nugget of information shouldn’t hurt… it took him fifty goddamned years to solve The Necromancer’s persona symbola circle himself.
          “One day,” He whispers to a distant memory, guilt anchored in his heart, “I will avenge you.”
          Then, he sighs wearily, mentally preparing himself for the difficult conversations he’ll have to have in the future.

          “Keep them closed! Are they closed?”
          “Yes, Sora, they’re closed…”
          “Good! Stay like that!”
          There’s a gentle creak (presumably as a door is being opened), a pause… and then a sudden mad commotion. There’s the sound of curtains being drawn, fabric rustling, a lighter clicking rapidly… Roxas isn’t sure what’s going on.
          “Uh…”
          “Keep them closed!” Sora shouts, his voice distant and the noises still going. “Almost… and… done! You can look now!”
          Roxas opens his eyes and takes in Sora’s room. The walls are all black, with a variety of different bookcases and display cases interlaid along the majority of it; all containing various books, baskets, and other miscellaneous items. Along the top part of the walls are what looks to be a sword from every possible era and location, ranging from rapiers to katanas. The floor is glossy dark wood, and a messy study sits against the opposite wall of Sora’s bed. Sora’s bed sits centered in a section of the wall atop a shaggy maroon carpet. The bedframe is iron, and the queen-sized mattress is wrapped in silky red bedding that looks suspiciously like it was just made. Heavy red drapes have been drawn over the massive windows, which would have enveloped the room in total darkness were it not for the scattered candelabras, tall and matching the bedframe, filling the room with a comforting glow.
          “This is romantic.” Roxas says playfully as he admires a ship in a bottle displayed nearby, “Why would you ever want to leave? Your room is awesome.”
          “Even the most interesting places can be suffocating. Put as much decor in a dungeon as you want, it’s still a dungeon…”
          Roxas crosses the floor to sprawl comfortably across Sora’s bed. He shoots a mischievous look at the vampire. “So, why did you really want to bring me to your room?”
          Wincing a little, Sora responds, “Was it that obvious?”
          XIII laughs, “You fucking lit candles.”
          Sora makes his way over to Roxas; leaning over the blond, he grips XIII’s zipper and gently pulls it down to reveal a slit of warm skin down to Roxas’ navel.
          “I guess subtlety isn’t my strong suit.” Sora mutters, pushing the fabric aside to fully expose XIII’s chest. It’s the first chance he’s had to really take in the blond’s body, as their recent romps only left him with quick glimpses—flashbulb moments of detail with no time to admire. They were in such a rush to call 8th Heaven that they didn’t even get to really enjoy the morning together either. Roxas had become more lean, his muscles now defined and apparent within his flesh. Not nearly as ripped as Sora, but certainly on his way there. “You look great—” He stops himself, “Shit, no, you’ve always looked great… you look—”
          “It’s okay, Sora.” XIII chuckles, “I get what you’re trying to say.” Roxas pushes himself up, moving his hands to fuss at the vampire’s shirt. “And what about you? I barely got to see your new scar.” Working together, they remove the apparel and Roxas takes in the magic circle embedded on Sora’s ribs. “Does it hurt?”
          “Sometimes I get this prickling, burning feeling under it… the King says it’s just a side effect of the magic. Says he gets feelings like that sometimes.”
          “How many of these does he have?”
          “Well over forty.”
          “Holy shit. Do you think you’ll end up getting all of them?”
          “We’ll see. For now… what do you think?”
          With a ghost-like touch, Roxas traces his fingertips across the raised markings. “It’s… kinda sexy. Like a tattoo.”
          “That’s basically what I was going for.” Feeling sly, Roxas quickly leans forward and drags his tongue in a wet little spiral around the scar. Sora flinches away, laughing, before pushing Roxas back onto the bed. “Take off that damn coat, you little shit.”
          Roxas obeys, slipping the cloak off his shoulders and gingerly moving to place it in a safe heap on the floor. He resumes his position on the bed, curious to see what Sora’s next action will be. The vampire leans all the way down and gives Roxas a peck on the corner of his mouth, beginning a trail of gentle kisses across his cheek and down his collarbone. Without warning, Sora’s mouth drifts quickly down to take one of Roxas’ nipples between his lips. Roxas gasps as the vampire licks slowly around the nub, working on removing Roxas’ pants as he does so. The blond can’t help but squirm under the sensation, which is an odd mixture of pleasure and strangeness. Nobody, not even he, has played with his nipples before; with each suck and lick, an odd static seems to tingle across his body like a warm mist of delight. Without him even realizing it, Sora has his pants and underwear off and his mouth is moving again—this time in a steady path to his crotch.
          The vampire kneels down completely and suddenly, Roxas is filled with a sense of dread as he thinks about Sora’s fangs coming near his penis. The brunet catches his gaze and, seemingly able to read his expression of terror perfectly, chuckles.
          “Relax. You can trust me.”
          Sora’s breath is hot on his crutch, and Roxas realizes this will be the first time he’s ever actually received oral sex. His mind is slightly awash in panicked anticipation, but he does his best to will it away once he feels Sora’s tongue gliding along his shaft. The brunet works slowly, lovingly, up the length as if feeling around for sensitive spots. One hand holds Roxas’ dick in place as the other traces an index finger from his belly button down his happy trail. The vampire’s tongue laps over a spot that makes his dick involuntarily twinge, and Sora slips the blond’s member into his mouth. He works the length up and down, his tongue finding that spot over and over again whenever possible. Roxas practically shudders beneath the prolonged contact, not knowing these sweet sensations even existed for him. The more he reacted to certain stimuli, the more Sora would re-engage that pattern or those places; it left Roxas in a writhing pile.
          After a few more moments of bliss, Sora’s mouth pops off Roxas’ slick member and XIII can feel the vampire's hot breath tickling his inner thigh. One of Sora’s hands starts stroking his throbbing dick rhythmically, and in the haze he hears the vampire whisper “Sorry, Roxas… I can’t help myself...” There’s a sharp, tight pinch in his thigh—Roxas immediately recognizes the feeling. Sora laps and sucks the blood from the wound as he jerks the blond off, and Roxas’ conflicted brain is stuck between arousal and pain. Precum drips in a steady stream down his cock, and without thinking, he moans out.
          “Please fuck me.”
          Sora must have been teetering on the edge himself, because the brunet practically tears his own pants off, his manhood standing at full attention. He scrambles to grab a basket on the bookshelf closest to his bed, pulling out a bottle of lube. He starts slicking himself up when he pauses, looking down at Roxas in an unsure manner.
          “I—uh…” He mutters, and Roxas knows exactly what he means.
          “I don’t care,” Roxas responds, practically gasping, “Fuck me raw.”
          Not wanting to argue, and quite honestly completely on board, he reaches forward and presses two fingers gently—but quickly—into Roxas’ ass to lube it up. Roxas sucks in a quick breath of air, but the fingers are in an out in not much more than a beat. Within seconds, Sora is pulling Roxas’ legs up and easing himself in. When the vampire is fully inside, Roxas is about to reach for his own dick when he realizes Sora’s hand is already wrapping around it. The brunet begins thrusting, pumping Roxas’ cock in time with his thrusts. XIII begins gripping the sheets around him, his eyes already back in his head and the tip of his member drenched with precum.
          “I don’t…” He groans, “I don’t know how long I’ll last… like this…”
          Sora slows his pumping, but ups the pace of his thrusting. “Better?” He asks.
          Nodding, Roxas lets his eyes slide closed, doing his best to will away his quickly encroaching orgasm.
          Between breaths, he hears Sora chuckle. “I don’t think I can hold out much longer either…” He moans, “I want to fucking fill you up.”
          This sends an bolt of ecstacy through Roxas, and he opens his eyes to see Sora: eyes half-lidded, mouth agape, fangs out, breath escaping in ragged pants, the blood still trailing from his mouth, the scar, his body in the candlelight—
          Roxas cums. Hard.
          His mouth is wide open in a silent scream, and with each additional thrust more ejaculate comes spilling out of his pulsating cock. Like clockwork, Sora fills XIII up just like he wanted to, almost unwilling to stop thrusting as burst after burst of cum is unloaded inside the blond.
          There’s a long instance of stillness, both men holding their breath and relishing in the seconds of post-orgasmic bliss. Then, Sora pulls out—a bunch of ejactulate coming with him—and collapses on the bed.
          “I…” Sora mutters, “Literally… never want to stop fucking you. I am immortal, and I never want to stop fucking you. I want to spend my unending days buried inside you.”
          Laughing, Roxas responds, “Yes, okay, okay… fucking shit, should we wash your sheets? Is this real silk?”
          “Buried. Inside. You. Forever.”
          “Shut up, shut up…” He’s laughing harder, “We should rinse off. It’s still daytime.”
          “Buried—”
          “Shut up.” He’s descended into a giggling fit now, barely managing to ask “Where are your towels?”
          They shower in Sora’s wonderfully ornate bathroom, and after some serious effort also redress themselves. Roxas sits in Sora’s study chair as the vampire leans against the desk, calculating their next move.
          “We have no real leads still.” Sora says, “I feel like our next best step is helping your brother decipher The Necromancer’s circle, maybe do more research using the information we have. Then branch out from there.”
          “That works.” Roxas sighs, “I just feel like we’re missing something huge. Did that Leon guy say anything else before we left?”
          Sora scoffs, “Right. That guy.”
          There it is again, Roxas thinks. Sora keeps acting like he has some beef with this guy, and XIII has no idea what the hell his problem is.
          “Sora, what’s up with you and this Leon dude? You’ve been so weird about him this whole time.”
          Sighing almost melodramatically, Sora crosses his arms. “Roxas, your brother’s friend… his name isn’t actually Leon. His real name is Squall Leonhart. He decided to take his mother’s maiden name.”
Roxas shrugs, “So, he has an alias. It’s whatever, so do I.”
Sora takes a deep breath. “That’s not it, Rox. I’m going to tell you something I haven’t told anyone in many, many years.” Fixing his gaze to the floor, he continues, “My last name is Leonhart.”
Exuent
A/N: Hello all! Thank you for your continued patience. It seems if I’m not busy with school, I’m busy with work. Nevertheless, I promise I’ll continue to work hard on this story for you. All of your comments and praise makes me endlessly happy, and I’m so grateful so many of you are still reading!!!
Halfway through writing the second sex scene I realized THIS IS THE THIRD TIME I’ve written about a BJ in this EXACT POSITION. Due to my laziness, I will not be going back to fix it. But let’s be real, okay? This is one of the most comfortable ways to give head, at least in my experience. There’s no weird porno-esque feeling cuz the person isn’t standing, and it gives you plenty of options for maneuvering around. Try it yourself (if you’re over 18 and both parties consent, of course), you’ll thank me later.
If you want updates and even exclusive previews of upcoming chapters, check out my tumblr! You can also ask me questions and help me with my writer’s block! Find it at mewsomniac . tumblr . com (keep in mind you must log in to view)
References and Inspirations:
- MORE ALCOHOL! Seriously, I have to be careful when I decide to drink while I’m writing because it makes it WAY too easy. The erotica just comes poruing from my fingertips. I finally understand the plight of alcoholic writers…
- I know there’s a great debate as to why Squall’s last name is “Leonhart”, but the most accepted theory seems to be that it was Raine’s maiden name, so I’m sticking to that. Again, I’m taking a lot of creative liberties with the Final Fantasy stuff.
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Please please PLEASE favorite, follow, review, send kudos, add bookmarks… anything! They help me more than you can possibly know! Please keep sending them!
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The Night