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“Angel of Twilight: Clockwork Breakdown”	By : HappyDragon Category: Kingdom Hearts > Slash/Yaoi - Male/Male Views: 8242 -:- 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
- 2
- 3
- 4
Key:
“Talking aloud.”
‘Thinking to one’s self.’
::Denotes sound effects:: ::and actions.:: Only used during speech.
Major P.O.V./Scene Change: * * * *
A/N: My notes/comments/ramblings
Chapter Start/End: ------

A/N: [[Removed to comply with new AFF guidelines. Please see the MM.org version for full A/Ns: http://www.mediaminer.org/fanfic/view_st.php/156268]]

Rating: Probably pg-13/16 right off the bat, but moves to NC-17.

|Spoilers|: There are some light spoilers for all three games.

|Warning|: The usual. Oh and Riku & Ansem might be a little more OOC than usual this chapter . . . Also, because of plot mutation/evolution, there will be pain, angst, swearing, AND (minor) fluff in this chapter. Fun, no?

Betaed by: ‘Dark Light’ and ‘DragonLady’

Criticism: Constructive only. Non-Axel flamers need not respond.

Reviews:

Answered last time, however I would like to do a thank you/point out other writers & fics that inspired my writing.

First and foremost, on LJ is a wonderful person by the screen-name [karmacitadelfic], who writes under the name [Dark Ki]. I can’t even begin to describe the beauty and power of zir (gender neutral pronoun for him/her; zie = s/he) writing, or count the ways in which zie has inspired me. However, you can blame Ansem’s need to ‘eat’ on zir at least. Go to this woman’s/man’s LJ and worship at the alter of zir glorious writing. And Give Zir Luv!

Second, over at MM.Org, there is an old dead fic called “The Price of the Reckless” by ‘VSKitteh’ [and it’s here too! With an extra chapter, under the same title, by ‘Kitteh’! I wonder if we can bug her into continuing . . . ] that gave me the idea of Ansem being both addicted to heat and . . . um . . . ‘well endowed’. ~.~;; Goddamned evil sexy-bastard. If this fic is complete anywhere, help me find it?

Well, I already mentioned “Broken Chain” by ‘Kage’ . . . so . . . yeah I think those are the only people/fics that directly influenced this story. Outside of that, everything else in here is from my own twisted, demented mind.

Especially the sequel. ^.^!

Alexiel: ::Stops twirling chakram. Almost drops it.:: WTF? You’ve decided to do the sequel? Already?!

Happy: Duh Ax-man. How else am I gonna explain how I ended up with you? ::Evil fangirl grin:: OR reunite you with Naminé and Roxas?

::Runs off before her Axel!muse or the rabid AkuRoku fangirls can catch her.::

::HD’s Dark/Black Magician!muse looks up from reading on the couch at the sound of running::

Xellos: ^__^;;; Ah, remember, the start of this chapter picks up instantaneously from the end of the last chapter.

So Riku comes out of his flashbacks and . . .
-----------------------

“Angel of Twilight; Clockwork Breakdown” Part 2/?
‘Hitting Below the Belt’

‘Darkness . . .’

Riku’s eyes snapped wide open, and he gasped in the largest lung-full of air that he could get pass his armored throat, eyes stinging and watering from the action.

He was dreaming--no, fighting Ansem in his mind--that’s why it was dark and he still had his armor. The bastard was trying to--oh gods his body was warm in all the wrong places. But had he woken up? No, his mind had tried to make things more tolerable for his sanity so he’d still be functional after all this and--

“Back from our trip yet?” Orange eyes. Inhuman eyes. He wasn’t home. He wasn’t safe.

It was several minutes before his brain allowed him to process all the information his eyes had taken in. And when everything clicked into place, he started to wish that he’d kept them closed.

There were fissures and gapping cracks running the length and breath of his armor. And judging by his naked--Naked! Not even his yellow tee-top to cover him!--left pectoral, all he had on under it was his birthday suit. His left side looked more broken up than the right, but given Ansem’s earlier actions, that sort of made sense in the back of his mind. Even now, he watched the Heartless Lord widen the opening over his breast. Like cracking the shell of an egg, a hard-boiled egg, he just gave a slight push--just the lightest pressure--and the dark armor gave way . . . and sunk into his skin?

Ah! There were some black tribal thorn patterns tattooed to his body, suspiciously only where the holes in his armor were. So the armor was being pushed into his skin and becoming a tattoo?

“Still adding things up?” Riku’s eyes snapped back up to the sound of drawled confidence. “As I said before, this armor was meant as an exoskeleton, a second skin. It makes it easier to enter your heart from the outside.” A tainted smile curved his lips. “So you sought darkness not for yourself, but to protect others? How noble.”

The teen’s world stopped. He’d seen?! The monster had been inside his mind? Again!?

“What of it?” He felt utterly numb. The bastard had found a way in . . .

Oh, he was having too much fun with this. The moans Riku’d made in his delusional state, calling out for his princess as he was pleasured by him, the little jerks his tiny body made were priceless. Even the look on the child’s face now spoke volumes. It was pissed off and frightened all in one go. Probably cursing him out silently. He ground their hips together, just to make a point, and smiled at the exquisite gasp that escaped the boy. Yes, he was hypersensitive from his ministrations, and the reactions of his body were now firmly out of his moral control.

That had felt, no, no, no no no! That wasn’t supposed to feel like anything! He looked down and paled at the lump in his armor. But his armor wasn’t supposed to lump! And why was there even a lump there?! He wasn’t interested, damnit! Ansem licked at the underside of his jaw and he shivered. He shivered!

His own body wasn’t even listening to him anymore . . .

Another few chunks of armor sunk into the boy’s flesh. Yes, the more he doubted, the more he believed that Ansem could get at him, the truer that reality became. In psychological warfare, the strongest mind won. And if you could get your enemies to defeat themselves, all the better.

What had confused the child before--during that instance of an outburst even he didn’t fully understand--was a twisted half-memory derived from Ansem’s own knowledge. Knowledge that had been passed to the child when their minds had been joined so long ago. And, as Ansem was finding now, wherever the child had a gap of information on life, his subconsciousness retained data it had absorbed from his mind to fill in the blanks.

So, in that sense, his knowledge was working double time for him, giving him the upper hand in wits and the occasional surprise attack originating inside the teen’s own mind. And here, in Riku’s mind, the effects were most obvious--with record speed, to boot.

Ansem kissed him, and his lips burned from the cold. He was lightheaded--was he supposed to get lightheaded yet?--and as good as things felt, it was wrong! It was morally and utterly wrong. And the bastard kept trailing his hands down and over his body, making tiny snapping, popping, sounds as more of the armor left him. He was getting more cold air on him, and it made him realize just how much his body had heated up from his memories.

They really did keep him warm in his darkest moments.

Ansem wanted that warmth, craved it. Needed it to survive. Without a body, he had to live off the warmth of others. Sweet, succulent, enticing warmth. If he would just shell it. Peel it open to nibble and toy with the pink fruit flesh left exposed for his amusement. His delight. His whims.

He said he wouldn’t rush this.

He’d lied to himself.

Ansem had no idea how long this foreplay had gone on, but he’d lost track of time somewhere around the hour mark. And he damn well hadn’t risked everything blowing up in his face so that he could start soon after the child fell asleep just so that it could take forever and a day to fight back inside the lad and have him waking up before he could assert any kind of control that would let things progress more smoothly next time.

Hmmm . . . he just might be suffering from pent-up frustration. The idea of dominating the boy was beginning to spark mini movies behind his eyes. And the images were having a very delightful effect on his nether parts. Ah, the better to torment the child with. He cupped his young one’s pert rump in his hands again, grinding down with his hips. There was a deeply satisfying moan and squelching of disappearing armor from behind the teen.

The scholar briefly mused about summoning his demon from the wall to help break the armor down faster. It wasn’t like it needed to stay in there anymore to hold the child. But he thought better of it, as the shadow might be a mood killer that would make his prey react defensively. And he really didn’t feel like undermining himself right now.

So, resigning himself, the once king pulled back and pulled out the right arm. Taking the smaller hand in both of his, he started working on it, rubbing it, massaging it, putting pressure on it until the armor around it cracked and sunk away. He continued this for the entire arm, but he kept both hands on it at all times. When he was done, he placed it back the way it had been, but not before Riku spied the tribal thorn pattern that flowered over his skin.

Ansem repeated this in short order, on the left hand and arm. When he was done, he noted how the armor was decaying on it’s own. It was particularly doing so around the areas he’d just left off from--the shoulders. The armor was sinking inward, dissolving around the pale neck even as he watched. With luck, it would spread downwards on its own.

Riku was all shudders and moans. And plots to kill or escape the madman.

On that note, he set to work on the feet and legs. Again he started with the right side, pulling the appendage free of the wall. This time he had to be a little trickier, and he did so by moving the extremity and himself to one side. At the elevated angle, the child couldn’t kick with the leg, and he was free to bare more delicious skin. Once he got to the knee, he replaced the foot and ankle to its secured and anchored position in the wall. He took his time caressing and rubbing up the thigh, never passing the deep crease where it met the pelvic area. He was going to save the best for last after all.

As the dark one started on his other leg, Riku looked down in despair. His torso armor wasn’t even covering his chest any more, just midribs down. Only his battle cape/skirt remained untouched. And the emblem that had once been a synthetic Heartless symbol.

When Ansem was done treating the other thigh, he looked up . . . and saw that his captive was effectively wearing only a straining thong, a back skirt, and what should have been his symbol for a front guard. Delighted, he stood, running hungry eyes over the new black tribal thorn tattoo that wound its way over the entirety of the fair one’s body. Then, with just the fingertips of his left hand, he began to push on the ex-Heartless mark. It sunk into the boy nicely . . . without changing shape.

He smiled, a feral light shining in his burning eyes. There, clear on the child’s body was the shape of a blackened heart. One that he would quite willingly take great pains to reforge as his symbol.

He took the edges of the skirt between his fingertips, zipping them down the length of it. The fabric disappeared in a curl of white smoke. Leaning down, he inspected by pulling a leg free again. Smirking, he saw how the tattoo on the back was now outlined in the same ivory as the battle skirt.

Replacing the leg, he stopped to look over his work. His captive only had a sinfully tight g-string left. He could almost see the boy! And he could tell his--yes his damnit!--boy was staring at him with dread. But ah, the pale youth was a sight to behold! He was panting from the mental strain of it all, and that made his avatar sweat--as his mind was still working on real-world logic. Soon, he licked his dry lips, soon, he would be wearing that divine sight! It was giving rise to his base urges already. He could almost taste the submission to come.

Ansem advanced and at last allowed his hands to slip between the plush thighs he’d taunted so. The little one gasped again, and his body jerked up, trying to escape the intimacy of the moment. But he only slid back down a breath later. And the dark man was petting him, not just fondling him, but petting him deep between his legs, someplace that stoked the fire in his lower belly, that added pleasure to the hand on his boyhood.

The scholar smiled and wondered if they even taught on his world that the prostate could be stimulated from outside the body? Just by putting a little pressure on that area behind the scrotum--sac, balls and all? He rubbed and pushed on the site with his right, his left still tenderly squeezing and coaxing the growing cock. Eventually, the remains of the armor fell away, and his gloved hands were at last on him.

Riku’s body spasmed, arching as he screamed. A ring-wave pulse of dark energy radiated from him, cutting through Ansem’s form. However, rather than being cleaved in two along his mid-chest, the tyrant just raised a curious eyebrow, inspecting the damage. There was a brief moment when the teen flashed on memories of cartoons where in this kind of situation, the cut person would slowly slide apart. Alas, that was not to be, as a thick beading of darkness sprung up from the cut and began to heal it in the same fashion as the Heartless’ tongue.

A deadly chuckle filled the air, and fiery eyes locked onto sea-mint ones. “Even when you know light would serve you better, you still reach out with darkness.”

‘Damn it!’, he wanted to yell. ‘That’s not it! You’re just twisting the situation!’

Nuzzling the younger’s cheek, he continued. “Yes, I imagine you want to correct me, to say that you need your blade to fully manipulate your inner light. But it doesn’t change the fact that you are more skilled with, more adept with darkness.” He nipped at an ear, to a strangled ‘eep’. “Darkness is as much a part of you as light.” He buried his nose into the boy’s hair. “One that I find much more fulfilling of you.” Pressing their lower bodies together, he couldn’t mistake the fear that made the child’s body tighten. “And now . . . you will fulfill me.” And then he kissed the back of his jaw again.

Riku tried once more in desperation to dredge up and call forth his inner light, but he really was emotionally drained from everything he’d been run through.

Ansem stepped back and called on the shadows to coat and slick his gloved hands with darkness. Liquid darkness. One of those hands he ran lightly, teasingly, over the stiffening length facing him. The child shuddered beneath him. His other hand flicked over the back entrance that had only just been revealed. The muscles by the opening clenched, not about to permit access.

Sighing, the older male ran his fingers up to the base of the little spine, then just past the small of the back. He gave one, two, three quick hard taps in the same spot and then watched as all the color drained from his victim’s face. Oh, so he noticed that he’d numbed his muscles from there down. Now they were very relaxed and wouldn’t present even the slightest resistance to him.

Speaking of resistance he needed to double-check something before he started. Pulling out Riku’s left arm from the wall, he let it drop and hang free. The teen--possibly thinking the other had gone suddenly more insane--attempted to manipulate it. It was to no avail, the appendage continued to hang limply in place.

“Excellent. I did say that the armor would be my way in, no? I gave it to you, didn’t I? And you never questioned its loyalty to you.” A short bark of laughter, as he replaced the arm into the wall--just to keep it out of the way of things.

The dread closed sharp fangs over Riku’s throat. This was happening, this was really happening to him and he couldn’t stop it, couldn’t save himself.

“Now, don’t worry yourself sick.” The man was kissing him in a patronization of care. “This is just all in your mind you know. Your physical innocence will remain perfectly unmarred.” Then that cruel smile flashed over his face like a knife. “But your mental innocence . . . that is something entirely different.” He nuzzled their noses together. “And it will be my single greatest work of art to deflower you.”

“No,” his voice was a hushed whisper, “please don’t.” It was a testament to how much of his reserves had been eaten away by this.

“Riku,” he crooned his name, “we’ve come too far to turn back now.” A quick lick to the cheek, “Trust me, this will all be worth it soon.” And then his index finger was inside him.

He screamed again, but no darkness cut out from him. And he thrashed around a tad, a long lost part of him wondering if he was making any kind of noise in his sleep. But he was having some trouble seeing through the tears; they were pretty thick after all.

Ansem, however, continued to busy himself with coaxing the small shaft to full life. The boy’s top half was moving about too much for him to attempt necking. A sad thing really, he’d hoped to tease his ears more. But he settled for playing inside of the child’s delectable heat. Even with only one--now two--fingers buried up to the second knuckle, he could feel just how hot the boy’s body had gotten. Yes, he truly was in for a treat tonight, but he still had some prepping ahead of him. No need to rip him the first time through.

He scissored his fingers, stretching the opening slightly as the teen begged for his gods to save him. Cute, he still had faith in such fairy tales. He moved the digits about, just by turning his wrist. Bringing them together, he added a third and began thrusting them in and out of the now pliant tunnel. The child was giving a death howl. It made for a nice lullaby. He contemplated his size in relation to the boy. With a shrug, he added both his pinky and thumb, reaching in to stroke the inner walls, exciting the nerve-endings and looking once more for a large nerve bundle that worked with the prostate. Or the prostate itself, whichever his hand reached to first.

Riku was sobbing from the overwhelming sensations. Hadn’t even truly begun this dance and he was already lost. So sad, but still, so provocative. Would he change once they started, really started? Would he enjoy it, hate it? Well one thing that the Heartless Lord wanted to know was--was the boy perfectly and one hundred percent hetero-normative? Or was he just conditioned to think only of females in a sexualized way, to the point he had never considered male partners, even if he might have actually enjoyed their company more? The boy was like him in so many other respects, surely he, too, would be bisexual? Still, only one way to find out.

He gave the dewy shaft in his hand one last flick of the wrist before removing himself. He had felt it jump a few times when he nudged the ‘sweet spot’ inside his treat moments prior. Now, with the child nicely stretched to his limit--with the hope that maybe if he didn’t know it was possible to be ripped open, it wouldn’t happen to his avatar--and his own need aching for attention, Ansem removed his other hand--to an elongated moan--and set to work unbuttoning himself.

When his tormenter eagerly sprang free, Riku couldn’t help but glance down. He nearly threw up on sight. In that moment, it was truly driven home to him just how much bigger a fully developed adult--he was over six goddamned feet tall!--was compared to a still growing pubescent boy. Hell, he didn’t even have hair on his balls, and he was going to, going to . . . he couldn’t even bring himself to contemplate the finished thought. The thing was leaking darkness from the tip. Fucking darkness! He was . . . oh gods, let him die? Let him die so his friends would never know that this had happened to him?

Ansem sighed in nothing short of utter contentment as he began to stroke over himself, coating his erection in liquid black. At long last, he could exact his plan. And to think, it all came about because of the boy’s carelessness. Just like the first time they met. Mmm, that raised some interesting questions of character, ones that he would contemplate when his lower mind wasn’t threatening to go on without him. No matter, he thought, pulling the boy’s legs free.

He was now very glad that he’d elevated the boy and that he hadn’t summoned his guard from the wall. First, he had his shadow demon drag the boy upwards a little more--huzzah for the wall being an amorphous solid!--he planned to use gravity to make this easier on both of them. Next, clawed hands reached out to cup and hold the firm globes apart from each other, making access that much smoother. Now the once king took his gargantuan body--his Heartless form was a perfected form, after all--into his hand, stroking lightly. With his free hand as a guide, he braced himself at the virginal entrance, said virgin trying in sluggish vain to once again free himself.

Once positioned, he had his demon release the child. From there, he wound his arms around the slim cream-ivory waist, preparing to guide the actions of the smaller male. He placed a chilled kiss to a burning shoulder as he began to slowly, sensually, slide in. One millimeter at a time.

Riku wailed. His arms wrenched free of the wall, his hands locking onto the larger shoulders in a death grip. It burned. His entire world burned, and he couldn’t stop it from happening.

Ansem was just barely keeping a tenuous grip on his sanity. He wasn’t even half in and he could feel the intensity of the child’s heat. High Ones help him, it was taking deistic willpower to not just snap himself into place. His thickened body craved to finish claiming his boy, his Riku. But no, he couldn’t rush this slow plunge in, this incessant and relentless thrust up, as he slid the trembling body down. Halfway in, he was amazed, simply amazed, at the velvet walls that greeted him, fitting snugly around him. However, he noted how tight the fit was. Had the child been any smaller, his body would have been unable to hold him--by either meaning.

Still, he continued to ignore the sounds of abject horror coming from the youth as he continued to satisfy his inner beast. The darkness within him growled hungrily for the matching darkness in his host. It wanted to fuse with it, mingle and merge and give, while taking strength to and from it. It vibrated and sang out to him in a way that none had ever done so before. The talent and potential in this one made him addicting, and hard to part with. He smirked, realizing that he’d never have to part with Riku again.

Finally, there was a light “thud” as Ansem became fully seated in the smaller. A broken, crying, twilit angel, begging to be released. Or rather, that’s what it had sounded like. He looked over the pale one, and saw that his entire body was spasming--true he felt this too, but then this was his first time, so everything inside would spasm. But the boy truly and utterly seemed to have melted against him in a boneless puddle. Oh odd, and he’d been fighting so hard too.

Curious and taking pity on the child, the tyrant lifted his head, to finally clearly hear what he was mumbling.

“Please, oh gods please, take it out. Take it out, gods, it’s too big! It’s too big, it hurts. It’s killing me, it’s going to rip me in half, just get it out of me. Take it out, oh gods please, please!” And he continued on in that fashion.

The elder chuckled and just pressed a kiss to moving lips, slipping his tongue back into the wetted cave. From there, he simply braced the young one’s back against the wall, holding him there with his own body shape. He did taste so nice, and he was so scintillatingly warm inside. It made him almost what to be irrational and start moving. But, he had a better idea.

He made sure his pet was flat to the wall, his thighs and hips supporting the light body, then slipped his hands from the smooth waist. With infinite care, he slid his hands under the nubile thighs and down to the kneecaps. He hooked a hand under each cap and pulled the legs up. From there, well if the child had been a little taller he would have draped the legs over his shoulders, but alas, he had to settle for only forcing them around his waist, drawing him in deeper to the persistent heat all the same.

Riku groaned around him, and he could tell that he’d lost all of his motor control. He was just so many pounds of jelly around the other’s dick now. And he hated him for it. He hated Ansem in a way he never thought would have been possible--even when he’d been possessed before, the shame, resentment and anger burning inside him had never matched this. He was being eaten alive, hollowed out inside so the other could take him over again. But not as he had last time, the control he’d lost was worlds different, and bluntly irreplaceable.

Gods, the pressure inside him was unbearable. Ansem filled him to the breaking point, and he was being relentlessly stretched from the inside out. His girth was inhuman! If this affected his real body, then there was no way he’d be able to walk again for a week. This was all just too painful . . . but his body didn’t care. He was sobbing into the monster’s mouth, tears flowing freely, and his body just kept responding and responding and . . .

Why couldn’t his first time be with Kairi!?

That was it, wasn’t it? Ansem wanted him to enjoy the things being done to him, right? Wanted him to enjoy that it was Ansem doing these things to him. Well fuck him. He still had his mind, he still had his heart, and his heart belonged to his friends. So as long as he could, he would imagine that it was Kairi doing this to him, that it was Kairi’s chilled lips--girls were supposed to be cooler than boys anyway--on him. He’d call out her name, and only her name, and he would see what the asshole did then when he saw that he still hadn’t broken him!

But . . . Kairi didn’t have a phallus. And the throbbing ache inside him was hard to ignore. Could he . . . could he really think of any of his male friends in this way? Was there really one of the guys that he’d let touch him like this? That wouldn’t make him sick too? No, it was a survival tactic, so thinking about being with two others at once was okay if it helped him hold on to his sanity. But . . . who could--

He promised to save you.

He never gave up on you.

After everything you did, he still wanted to find you.

He never stopped looking.

He was going insane in the castle--in both Hollow Bastion and Oblivion--knowing you were there but not able to see you.

He never replaced you with new friends, he just made room in his heart for more.

But he’d never forget you, and you’d never forget him.

Even when the darkness had you, you still thought of him.

It saw how much you cared for him and tried to turn you away from him.

So . . . his heart had already decided whom the only male he’d ever let willing touch him was.

Heh . . . the dork. Probably having the sweetest of dreams about now. And after he’d made him promise to take care of Kairi.

Ansem purred against the lips he’d nipped into a swollen state. He pulled back and looked at his masterpiece. Riku’s eyes were half-lidded and threatening to roll back at even the lightest move. The dull jade was swimming with salty water and a multitude of thoughts just out of his grasp, and he was limp, like he’d lost control of his avatar’s functions. Even the hands only just kept their hold on his upper ribs.

Sweet little taut thing.

He was going to make him cry heaven and weep hell.

The dark one leaned in and began to nip along the slender neck. Mmm, something about this boy brought out his more feline tendencies. It had to be his heart; he could smell it, feel it pulsing away. And he knew, knew that if he devoured it he’d be dooming himself. But the hunger still lurked in him, he had to keep it under strict wraps. So the nibbling was a compromise; nibble the body, but leave the heart intact. He’d nip, then lick, wait, and repeat, marking his boy’s neck. Ansem vaguely wondered if the hickey could carry over to the waking world.

“Kairi . . .” So, he was still thinking of her? Alright, he’d given the child enough time to adjust to his presence. Time to answer his unspoken question from before.

Winding his arms around the petite waist, he slowly lifted the lightweight upwards until only the tip remained in.

Riku exhaled hard at the sudden vast emptiness inside him. But he moaned as he was brought back down, the darkness re-seated inside him.

So this was the pace.

Ansem liked this. The child’s heat was thrilling. He wouldn’t be able to drive in with abandon yet, but he could make do with the slow, sensual dance. He brought the child up again, then slowly down. He wasn’t pressing on the prostate, as planned, so he could draw out this joining for the greatest length of time. After all, the only way the child could hope to build up sexual stamina was if he was gentle with him first. Even if the beast within him wanted more, he’d just have to take his time, raise the child up, glide the boy down. Lift him up with a sigh, bring him down with a mewl.

Mmm, he liked the sounds his new toy made. Noisy thing.

It was getting hard to focus on how much he hated the bastard. He was . . . too good at this. Ugh, no, he didn’t like him, he held no affection for him! . . . But this was all sooooooo good now that he was used to the pain. Nnaah! He’d . . . he’d almost called out that time. But if he called out that name--Gah! He was afraid, afraid of how the other might react. Violently, quite possibly, right? It should be violently . . .

His eyes widened as something inside him was skimmed. Those slow thrusts in, hips realigning every few times, they were eating his nerve-endings alive. This could very well be the death of him if---

---No. He couldn’t submit his mind to him. As long as he kept his free will, he had hope. He just had to keep thinking of what he’d do to this fiend after he was free.

The ache in his lower body had started to get the better of him, but he’d caught himself. Mmm, he was busily attacking soft ear lobes, but the boy still only called for his princess. But, he’d thought he’d heard a hesitation at some point. Maybe he would have to take another risk to find out his answer? Surely the boy didn’t know about sex-toys . . . although that was cute, in a dirty way. His little minx wearing a strap-on as he played the bitch. But the dominant personality that echoed in his heart seemed at odds with that . . . ah, but desperate times called for desperate measures, and his cock was feeling very desperate.

With the next lunge in, he rolled his hips up, creating a snapping effect against the pale body. That awarded him a definite reaction from his boy. A shaky mewl and tightening of his hands. Lifting Riku up, this time he simply dropped him down--gravity worked quickly--as he snapped in again. The child threw his head back in a howl as he was spiked. Mmm! His body was clutching at him. He lifted and dropped him again, to a louder howl and firmer squeeze.

Ah, so he’d found the spot then? Oh dear, how would he be able to control himself now?

He began to viciously attack the child’s mouth again. And cheeks and throat. He even dipped down to the shoulders, following the tendons in the slender neck. Such sweet sounds his child made and the beautiful taste of his almost honeyed skin. The tribal thorn patterns were keeping him from attacking, which was always a plus. He sped up his thrusts, attempting to drive deeper, roll in further and, High Ones, if he could he would take both of his hands away to play with his Riku’s tender length and balls, but the child would probably just try to fall off him sideways to escape. Bah, he’d just have to settle for stroking him in counter measure to his entries, to draw out his first orgasm.

Mmm . . . a shame he had never played with himself before, he would have loved to know what his essence tasted like. Possibly a creamy fruit blend? Heh, maybe after he regained control of his body he would take him for a test drive.

He was getting short of breath. Even with his mouth gapping wide, Riku still couldn’t draw in enough air. His body had stopped cooperating again and was doing things he didn’t understand but made things feel better. Like pushing down more, as if trying to fit more of the thick bastard inside him, like he wanted to have him buried to his base in him. RrraaHhh! It was so hard to think, and everything inside him was heating up and coiling tight, and all he could see were blue eyes--sometimes with brown hair, sometimes with pinkish-red. His hands were gripping and slipping, and he was sweating so much, and gods, the ache inside him was almost maddening!

A gloved hand was on him, and coupled with the last spike, his composure snapped.

“S-SORA!--AH!”

Ansem bit down harshly on the juncture of neck and shoulder. The boy had answered his question after all and deserved his reward. But now, as he sucked at the impending mark, it was as if the floodgates had opened, and he was calling out wantonly for his substitute and his princess. Fine, let the boy pine for them, he had pleasures to attend to. And judging from the way his pet constricted around him, he was almost done his first round. The confused rolling of his hips, the breathiness of his voice, the glaze to his eyes--mmm, truly enticing.

One final hard stab, and his toy broke over him, howling for his preferred bedmates in the same breath.

He splattered over his own body, coating the larger hand as he released hard between them. Riku whimpered slightly with his last few spasms, slumping against the wall as his strength finally failed him. But the whimpering was replaced by low moans as the scholar proceeded to milk him for the last drops of his seed. His body trembled in the afterglow, feeling worn and fragile and ready to collapse. When the dark man was done squeezing him dry, he purred, and drew his gloved fingers through the sticky whiteness that clung to them. The he popped the digits into his mouth. Ugh. A disappointed look crossed his face.

Bah, no taste. Sad . . . “We will have to continue your education in the waking world.” Then he kissed his forehead, willing the shadows to dissolve away the mess. Such tender care he was giving him . . . but he’d yet to have his fulfillment. So after his boy was rested, they would go again.

Riku’s head lolled against the wall. He felt disgustingly pleasant, but at the edge of his perception, he felt the Heartless Lord was still hard inside him. He wanted to make some kind of remark about that, but . . . he just . . . didn’t have the energy. Maybe his mind would brake again, and he could slip off into his dreams. Nnah! . . . Ansem was shifting inside him again. Nooooo . . . he really wasn’t ready move any more. Couldn’t he just sleep?

The wall position had been nice, but there was no need to do that again with the boy. And what good were shadows if you didn’t command them? So he summoned his demon guard--behind the child so as not to spoil the moment--and succinctly dismissed it. There was no telling what would have happened the first time, but now that he’d made headway into the teen’s psyche, he didn’t need to waste energy needlessly.

Keeping one arm tightly wound around the moonstone waist, with the other he formed the darkness into a suitable chair--a throne--to sit in. When it was as he desired it, he purred, leaning away from the wall--which dissolved into nothingness--and glanced in amusement at the child’s pained and confused face. The act of sitting caused him to jab into his pet, hard, against his pleasure spot, eliciting a small grunt. The body was still tingly and weak around him. Even now, it tried in vain to push him free, to reject him. He settled himself snugly against the high back of the chair. Silly boy, he lightly kissed at his eyelids, he would never be truly free of him now.

Oh gods no, no, no, why did the psychopath have to be a sex-freak, too? Could he please die yet? Or pass out? He felt spent and . . . gah, he couldn’t do complex thoughts. Ansem was raining kisses over his face, like they meant something, like he gave a damn about how he felt. Lying bastard. He’d used him, now and before, and he would do nothing but use him. If he ever found a way to rip him out of his heart, he’d kill him. He’d gut him and flatten him and grind him out of existence.

The dark scholar made a slow cool path down from a temple to the back of his jawbone. Then he nipped again, earning him some minor trembles. His free hand had found its way to the small of his child’s back, granting some support. He slowly slipped it up the true blade-master’s spine to once more caress the child’s scalp. Heh, the pale one was purring already, unable to fight against the sensations. Ansem found himself sucking on the tangy neck again, loving the little protesting sounds coming from his toy.

He . . . he was getting hard again . . . baassstttaaaaaarrrrrdd . . .

Mmm, his pet was reawakening, lovely. Continuing to suckle on the spot he’d affixed his lips to, his slithered his gloved hands around the child’s alabaster hips. Taking a firm hold, be began to lift the tiny body up. Riku moaned in protest. Then he spiked him back down. The boy gave a muffled scream. Smiling venomously, he started the teasing torture of round two. This time, he found the other’s body slightly more compliant.

He was going to kill him. Next time they fought, he was going to ram his Soul Eater down his throat and cut outward. He would charge every ounce of light in his heart into the blade and cook him from the inside. He would tie him down with chains of white brilliance and beat him until the black stopped flowing out of him.

Those tiny shoulders called to him, and he nibbled and sucked and licked his way down to them. Such sweetness in his boy’s skin, he was shamelessly addicted to him. And the sounds he made, such throaty calls to a boy who slumbered outside of time and a girl who only the High Ones knew where she was. But oh, oh, letting his hand slip again to the pale one’s front, that was nothing compared to the sheer heat his body produced. This suffocating warmth, he couldn’t understand why he couldn’t inhale it from his flesh. His thrusts were becoming ragged inside the boy, who was clawing at his back, trying in vain to rip it open through his clothes.

Now, now, it wouldn’t do to end this so soon. So on the last down-stroke, he halted. The child was confused, but continued to roll his hips against him, moaning for his lost ones. He settled, purring, waiting for the child to calm. When Riku did, he began to rock into him, soft, light motions, barely touching and nudging the pleasure point deep inside him.

It was like the man was swaying, dancing inside him. It was as if Ansem wanted to rock him to sleep. It was . . . it was gentle. It was caring. It was . . .

‘Sora . . . would you love me like this?’ There were fresh tears in his eyes, and he couldn’t stop the sobs tumbling over his lips. He was openly wailing against his arch-nemesis’ chest, and he couldn’t stop himself from praying that his best friend would be like this the first time they made love, and that he could make his other friend feel this good when he joined with her.

Deep inside him, the madman throbbed in agonizing intensity. But that was all he did, no twitching like Riku did before the world went white and out from under him. Just throb and nudge and push against him, not even harsh jabs anymore. This was . . . sin sweet. This, this would be the death of him. If the asshole ever figured out how much this was affecting him, he’d be able to break him, like nothing. Like spun sugar in wine.

All it took was Ansem’s roaming hand to start over his standing sex again, the massaging grasp, and his second release was coaxed out of him. This time he came with an unintelligible sob, heart wrenching and beautiful.

Pretty thing, his clockwork angel. He left his neck and brushed tender lips with his own. He wrung him dry again, letting the shadows clean them once more. Still the Heartless Lord was in need, by his own will. He wanted to test the limits of his new toy and saw that the next round would, sadly, have to be the last. No matter; it was all a learning experience for the child, and he would soon be able to match him in stamina. But there was no need for the chair again.

Mmm, yes, it was time to introduce him to a more . . . traditional position.

Chuckling softly, he let the throne change once more. Now he sat on the edge of a soft bed, little over a king-sized if he’d shaped it right. He made it plush, and deep, with many pillows and several layers of sheets and covers and quilts and a swan-down comforter--did he mention how he loathed the cold? Riku was groaning from a combination of his movements--which interrupted his slumping against his shoulder--and from being too tired to form the words to beg him to allow him a moment’s reprieve.

Well, as far as he could guess those were the reasons.

He debated willing off his boots, then realized that it was all a moot point since this was happening in the teen’s mind anyway; they weren’t dirty. And he’d be needlessly giving up a part of his mental wards. So the boots stayed, and he rolled himself and his unprepared captive onto the bed. The child squawked beneath him, highly dumbfounded by the fact that the man still wanted to screw him cross-eyed.

Riku gazed up with a look that could only be read as ‘You’re joking, right?’ Sadly, the scholar didn’t joke on this kind of subject matter. He found his lips and mouth being ravished again, as the larger body continued to shift them into the center of the bed. Mrrph! That was . . . it made weird tremors run inside him. He could feel the vibrations from Ansem’s one hand working at the edge of the blankets, and when he had them in hand, Riku was lifted up so they could be thrown back. After an instant, he was set back down onto the bed-sheet, breathing out as the coolness hit his skin. His head rested on--and sank into--a rather sizable mound of pillows. Soon the madman had gathered the covers over them again and repositioned himself just a few last times until he was comfortable inside Riku once more.

The child probably didn’t know that he was reading his face for discomfort. Humph, even if he did, he wouldn’t care for his reasoning. Still, when his face at last relaxed, Ansem settled himself onto his hands and knees, not wanting to crush the boy. Or did he? . . . No, not crush him this time. But he would allow himself to sink slightly into the supple form, sighing his appreciation. Alright, so real world physics did come in handy here; the child’s body heat was spreading fast to their surroundings.

MMmmmmmmmmm . . . . . . . . . .

. . . .

. . . .

It was nice to let his thoughts quite once every few years, and heat did that so wonderfully to him. The little one was quietly panting, body again wanting to be rid of him, the weakened and abused muscle protesting. So adorable in his resistance, so tenacious! His little warrior, his true Keyblade-master. His. He sealed his mouth over the hollow of the pale throat.

He wouldn’t share. Never! His property. No one else’s. He was jealous and possessive.

The boy could dream all he wanted.

He would unmake anyone who ever touched his child.

Riku moaned, Ansem’s weight was pressing down on him now, holding him in place. And that forced him in deeper. He tightened his legs around the larger waist, taking the dark man in further. Gods . . . why did his body respond so easily? The elder’s wide tongue was on him, and he was quiet and still inside him, save for the throbbing ache. A quick breath in, the other was abusing his nipples, his fingers having been too occupied holding him in place and pleasuring his length before.

They twisted and lightly pinched at him, and he felt himself arch up into the contact. The brunet's name slipped past his primrose lips. Ansem lapped and then bit one peak. Not too hard but still firm. And he was calling for the redhead again. His nails were raking down the elder’s arms. Gods save him, what was he doing?! Ansem gave a roll of his hips, and he pushed back with a shallow groan. The dark man nipped at his ears, licked at his face, and he couldn’t stop his hands from trying to tear off his clothes so he could bloody his chest.

But he couldn’t make the fabric rip.

The Heartless Lord pushed down on him with his insistent weight. Their hips rocked together as the gloved hands tickled and danced on his sides. Then they were slipped under his body, below the small of his back, and the man was holding him firm as he pulled out of him again. When the one above him lanced back in, he shoved back with all the force left in him. The bastard was biting and sucking on his neck again, probably going to go back to his mouth soon, but he was thrusting and thrusting and moving faster and harder than he had been all night.

The child was like velvet heaven around him, soft and sensual. And he wanted to feel more of it. The tight warmth--warmth that had spilled into the covers, and at last heated the bed--was finally, finally reaching him. After so many moons trapped in bleak night, he was starting to feel something beside the wretched lack of comfort! This boy, this body, was his for the claiming, and he would claim it so, so, soon. And he held onto slim hips and pulled them hard against his own and he rolled and thrusted and snapped himself into salvation. The child was moaning deliriously beneath him, calling out to ones who couldn’t hear him no matter how loud he yelled.

Somewhere in the blinding friction a hand had strayed to his shaft and started to stroke him again. But it wasn‘t one of his pale hands because they were trying to inch closer to the psycho's neck so he could give choking him a go, but since Heartless didn’t breath, odds were it wouldn’t do anything more than amuse him. But it might, just might, make Riku feel better to know that now he could hurt Ansem when the scholar was being the most vulnerable with him.

Ansem shifted inside him and hit the mark all over again. His small hands gave a death grip to larger shoulders, and the man ground into him for all he was worth. Those lips were against his own, and a tongue slid against his own, coiling and tugging, and playing with him. The pace they set was desperate, wild, and if it had been real, it would have broken him wide. The hard jabs, the weight on his prostate, the firm hand on his cock, it was all pushing him to his edge.

But, it couldn’t distract him from the feelings inside his body. After everything that had happened, he could feel the jerking twitches. Even if he hadn’t, the man above him was finally moaning wordlessly, plunging harshly into him to find his sweet peace. Riku cursed him as he called out for his loves, holding tightly to the dark thing that was trying to eat away at his life.

It happened, that one last thrust, and he screamed, clenching so hard around the madman, spilling forth the dawn. And then, once, twice, thrice more--reveling in the vice-like grip--and the tyrant stilled and poured night into him, calling out to Riku like a false god.

He milked the boy again, finding small pleasure in the act, the control. Even as he emptied himself, he continued to roll his hips, riding the falling waves of ecstasy to their end. And when at last he found them, he gently laid a kiss to the cheek of his exhausted angel. Pretty little silver angel, all mussed up by him. The shadows cleared away the fell remains, and he found himself tracing tribal paths with loose fingers, from shoulder to chin.

He would never tire of his boy. But alas, his boy was tiring on him. And yet, Ansem knew that when he would close his eyes--not before Riku did, the teen would kill him as he slept--he wouldn’t have to worry about his insomnia anymore. He had been well fed this night and would sleep sounder than the dead.

Now if he could just get the child to finish nodding off, all would be right with this picture.

Thankfully, the gods had mercy. Riku soon found himself back in the world of his heart, resting gently, peacefully, on the beach with his two dearest friends.
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A/N: [[Removed to comply with new AFF guidelines. Please see the MM.org version for full A/Ns: http://www.mediaminer.org/fanfic/view_st.php/156268]]
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“Angel of Twilight: Clockwork Breakdown”