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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
- 5
- 6
- 7
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: Some chapters are pg-13/16 others NC-17 . . . or both. This is a ‘both’.

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

|Warning|: The usual. Beware OOC-ness. Also beware the language, angst, randomness that isn’t quite crack, and my own insanity.

Betaed by: ‘CrimsonEnigma’

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

Reviews:
Higuchimon: Wow, I didn’t really think about it in quite that way . . . but that’s something I’m going to start playing up! Definitely! It makes logical sense that he would. He just has that, ‘I don’t like not knowing about things’ vibe. Hell, it’s what started the whole mess in the games to begin with!

AkuRokulove: Eh? Ya reviewed twice? Oo? Meh, who’s complaining! XD OOOooooo . . . okay, thanks for the translation! Mmmm . . . oatmeal . . . And oh yes, there will be more. So, very much more. Hope you like this chappy, it has your namesake in it. XD And lastly, thank you so, so, much for reviewing “Grief’s Adept” . . . Twice? Oo?! . . . Twice. o.o;;

Xendrassk: ::Bows:: You are far too kind. I’m actually starting to scare myself with how logical the inner workings of his mind are shaping up to be. Worst part? I understood exactly where he was coming from in the first game, so I could sympathize with what he was trying to do. . . . And he’s sexy. Then he possessed RIku, made him fight Sora, did all around naughty things to my favorite KH character {RIKU!!}, and I just couldn’t like him anymore. Ah, but anyway! I just keep thinking about the things my parents say about ‘good villains’: From another point of view, they are the heroes. And no matter how insane their actions get, they must always--always--have a reason for doing it. Doesn’t have to be a logical reason, it just has to make sense to them. So again, I thank you for what you’ve said, and I can only hope I can continue to meet your expectations.

huntedsnark: And I’ll still take you as a beta if you’re interested!

Shihazriah: And I’m glad to still be alive. XD You did?! Wow . . . thanks! Ah, well Riku’s going to continue fighting back, in his own ways . . . because stabbing Ansem is apparently ineffective . . . maybe . . . he’s working on it! Well, here’s the update! Now with more 8/13.

Nacopia: O.O!!!!! I . . . have a fan club?! ::Cowers in fear:: There is something wrong with this world if I have a fan club. ::Insert self-deprecating rant about “how undergraduate college students should not be good enough to have fan clubs, even if they are studying how to be a well rounded writer” here:: . . . . @_@;; And . . . thank you . . . for your kind words . . .

Showndra Ridge: Ah, well I think I literally updated several minutes after you reviewed. And who would guess that a story they’re reading would update as or just after they’ve read it? O_O!! Ansem is n o t the size of Thor. If Ansem was the size of Thor, Riku would be brain dead from the mental trauma . . . . Although in about half a year . . . after the proper conditioning . . . Oh my gods I’m such a hentai [pervert].

Ah, well, when you get down to it, as much as AFF.Net only wants legal adults here, there’s no way to keep all the minors out. So I put up that warning for any of the mature children who wandered into my fic, because while I have to abide by the letter of the law, I think the spirit is far more important and kids these days aren’t kids anymore. I’m a virgin, writing about sex at the age of 23, and there are young ones out there who lost their innocence mid-puberty. Hell, most of them had learned about it by age, what, 9? And “2 The Ranting Gryphon” said it best--though I have to paraphrase because I don’t quite remember the wording: “I have met 11 year olds who were more on the ball than their teen siblings, and I have met 20-somethings who spend their day drawing penises on their eyelids!” Translation: Physical age is not indicative of mental maturity. . . . That, and, I also respect that there are some readers out there who have no idea what kind of site I was directing them to, and I didn’t want to have their family members questioning them about ‘odd’ URLs in their browser history. . . . Umm . . . did that come off as angry? ::Sweat drops:: I hope not.

Oh oh! And thank you for leaving a review on “Grief’s Adept”!

CrimsonEnigma: I purposely placed you last in my replies, rather than in reviewing order, because I think I have the most to say to you. 1st let me start by thanking you reviewing on “Grief’s Adept” and asking me the damnedable question about Axel and Demyx’s life as Sombodies. I will be writing a new fiction because of you, to help sort out the confused mass of inspiration, and the winding tales of our favorite duo. I am indebted to you for making me think.

And for becoming my beta! XD

When I read your review on “Clockwork Breakdown” for the first time, I cried with joy. Your review was orgasmic, the kind of review that every writer hopes to get, thick, meaty, and full of emotion, opinions and critiques. You have touched on several MAJOR points of my fiction, and I just can’t answer them all here. I seriously would have to devote the next opening ramble to you--which I’m willing to do. Well, that or just answer you in e-mails when sending my chapters off. I just . . . I just can’t thank you enough for what you said. If I made your day with my writing, then you made mine with your praise.

But, there is one point that I feel must be answered before all the readers, and that’s what I’ll focus on here.

You asked about “Deep Dive”, and how Mickey will handle parting ways with Riku. Both will be in this fic. In my past writings when I re-imagined the happenings of a story--I’m talking about self-insert daydreams of hanging out with the heroes, under one alias or another--I always played it like I was throwing a small pebble into a pool of water. Translation: I was changing just enough to cause some ripples in the story, but not drastically enough to noticeably effect the original story/plot integrity.

I think I’m going to have to reevaluate that assessment. I already knew I was going to have to redo a lot of things, but I thought I could let KH 2 play out as it did in the game--haven’t read more than volume 1 of the corresponding manga, but more on that next time. However, this chapter kind of bitched slapped me a few days after I finished it, but before I typed up this. I changed way too fucking much. There’s going to be huge fucking ripples. Hell, ripples be damned, there’s going to be a goddamned tsunami because of Ansem still being alive and brain fucking Riku. And I’ve gone back, and I’ll be damned if so far everything isn’t traceable to Ansem still being around.

(Actually, that’s a lie. There’s at least one thing that cannot be attributed to Ansem, but you won’t be finding out what until late story/season 3 or the start of story/season 4.)

I mean there’s a logical reason why Riku and Roxas’ paths--why the Organization and Riku’s paths--never crossed each other before when they did in canon. It can be summed up with them all always traveling to different worlds. They never had a reason to be on the same worlds at the same time, until Sora woke back up. But in this? Hell, when Axel and Roxas get home, within the next 2 days of them returning Xemnas is going to make it everyone’s top priority that they find and bring in Riku! And that’s just the start! My mind is probably going to start boggling in a few chapters with not only all the things I’ll have to add in that were never shown in the original story, but with all the things I’ll have to re-envision! It’s gonna be nuts! I may not make it back down to under 40 pgs. a chapter!

Aren’t ya glad you decided to become my beta. XD

But yeah, it was always my intention to be faithful to the games, even if I have to tweak things here and there. But more on that next time too.

And lastly, thank you to everyone who at least took a look at “Grief’s Adept” even if you didn’t review. And don’t worry if you didn’t read it, you’ll still enjoy the chapter . . . even if it does come back to bite you when Axel leaves the Organization and Demyx’s ballad-poem makes no sense . . . or was it the rant preceding it that’s gonna be sketchy? . . .

Special Thanks: ‘Love-child of Marluxia’ [of MM.Org], because I don’t smell or taste in my daydreams, which means I don’t smell or taste any of my/the characters.
-----------------------

“Angel of Twilight; Clockwork Breakdown” Part 5/?
‘Fire-Flight Fight’

The room he was in had meager furnishings, but they satisfied his meager needs (and most likely the needs of the former occupants--may their souls find glory, even if their remains didn’t). There was a small window though it was late at night, so the dark gray curtains and blinds had been drawn closed. The lamp on the faux wood wall by the closet offered the only light, the one on the night-stand being switched off. There was a dresser on the opposite side of the room from him, and on it sat a third lamp that, like the other two, was firmly secured in place with bolts, much like the phone that sat next to the alarm clock on the night-stand. There was a bathroom attached to this room, and it was painfully white, which reminded him of home.

He sat in a cream-colored upholstered armchair that he’d dragged over to place in current watch position by the single queen-sized bed in the room. When he looked at the prone form in the bed, it seemed smaller than it actually was. His friend appeared more delicate then he ever could be, and in general his petite, almost girlie, features were thrown into high relief as he slept in the unfamiliar bed.

Roxas was still out cold, and Axel had only the merest of inklings of an idea as to what had happened to bring them here. Fact one, the blond had been awake. They had been on the quite little world of Galdrial, that was (unknown to them when they ‘ported in) sealed off from the darkness and general Heartless. Fact two, he talked to Riku. More like silver had blathered on about Sora and random shit from his first adventure and some stuff that’d happened in ‘Castle O’ that he hadn’t been really prepared to come clean with Roxy yet. And if that wasn’t bad enough, Demyx hadn’t lost his edge because he’d lost Zexy; he’d lost his edge because Axel had told him that he’d had to kill Zexy for the safety of Sora and Riku, who were imperative to The Superior’s grand-ass schemes to get them all hearts so that they could finally shake off the never-ending, agonizing thrum that pulsated throughout their psyches, screaming relentlessly into the void at the center of their souls that they were eternally damned by incompletion.

So it was either lose the ‘it makes the ache hurt less’ of his now [1], or lose the ones who could make them whole again forever. And after an unlife of screaming wretchedness with only echoes of emotions to keep them warm--for there was no sanity among the older members anymore--Demyx was homicidal but understanding.

And that was why ‘The Flurry of Dancing Flames’ had been walking funny for the next week after he’d spilled the news. And why he’d give the dopiest smirk for whenever he witnessed the teapot or kettle whistle with steam. Granted, it was also why he’d go sneaking down corridors at night when he felt especially frustrated at Roxas’ inexperience with the adult world.

Oh, how he wished he could fix that tiny oversight.

Wait, shit, digression. That didn’t help with thinking. Ok, fact one, two . . . Fact three, Roxas passed out while ‘correcting’ Riku. Translation: Roxas had tried to remember shit he didn’t actually know. So what happened? His brain said, ‘Hey, I’m about to fuck myself up. Why don’t I take a nap so I can forget what I was trying to think?’. From there, the blond had powered down.

So that’s where he stood, well, sat at the moment, with his friend damn near comatose in a little no-account hotel room on a quiet little world. Well, at least this was an ‘open’ world, so Roxy would be happy that they could get on with their mission.

A glare crept onto his face as he glanced at the flaxen youth. What the fuck did Xemnas know about shit anyway? Man certainly knew next to nothing about the younger--and especially newer--members of the organization. If Marly had one thing right, it was that. Didn’t really warrant going traitor over it, just being a little louder at the meetings. But really, seriously, honestly, truthfully, the six’s research had to have been flawed somewhere. Ok, after the breakdown, Xemy felt jack-shit. Xiggy was an asshole, which meant he thought he ‘felt’ something. Xally was in near the same boat. Vex was . . . oddly emotional even though he was supposed to be ‘chilly’, but he was mostly angry that no one respected his ‘ah-thar-ro-teh’ [2]. Lex was quiet all the time unless he was with Zexy, then he was the big-brother/understanding support type, so he probably thought he was ‘caring’ . . . but that wasn’t too far off the mark of his Somebody. So Lex was very similar to his pre-incarnation like he, Demyx, Naminé, and Roxas were--Oh dear gods, how close Naminé and Roxas were to Kairi and Sora.

Axel knew that he and Demy had barely changed--less so Dem than him--from their past lives, having his memories intact. He got the same vibe from Marly and Larxene, and it had been what spurred them to go against the big dogs. That or unlife took what little sanity they had left. They all knew it: to remember what you had been only to have the constant weightlessness to remind you of what you now were--a falsity, a waking shade, a thought trapped in living memory. Yeah, he could see it: Marly and Larly had been super passionate people long ago, and when confronted with the inability to feel or connect with their ‘art’ without true emotion, their minds had gone the rest of the way into blinding darkness. Well tough shit for them; Axel had been through many things before he was Axel--loved, and did, and breathed, and was--and there was a reason he was a redhead of fiery passion this time around. There was a reason all of them were the way they were this time around . . . even if there was no ‘next time’ around . . .

Stop. Couldn’t think about the sad stuff. If he thought like that, he’d go all stupid and crazy again, and he didn’t have Demyx to tie him down and dump water on his overheating head.

How had they ended up with conflicting ‘arts’ again? Well, brothers of all worlds argued all the time, and best friends did, too, and even they had been like opposites sometimes. Night and day, hot and cold, fire and ice/water, the never ending qualifiers of ‘Yin-Yang’ shit. So yeah, that could have been a big part of it.

Looking down at Roxas, he was positive: Nobodies couldn’t just be the cast off bodies and souls of beings made into Heartless. A soul could be reincarnated, damned, or saved, and a body couldn’t live without the heart to pump blood through it. So if Nobodies were anything, they were living memories, the gray-black side of the person they once were, the echo of negative emotions, mostly. Nobodies came from people with both a stronger than average will and stronger than average heart, but when Axel connected the dots in his head, everything just confirmed the dilution Demyx had given into--partially. Nobodies derived from Somebodies with stronger wills than hearts ended up like The Superior--tortured because they couldn’t even pretend. Nobodies derived from the counterbalance, such as himself or Demyx, could pretend almost to the point that they could convince themselves they just suffered from really acute anxiety mixed with a mind-numbing depression. They could pretend because they didn’t remember things scholastically with their minds, they remembered things artistically/intrinsically--emotionally--with their hearts. In their past lives, that is--was. . . . Whatever.

And when in a moment that usually involved heightened emotions for mortals, the fantasy of emotions, feeling, completeness, was at its strongest, its easiest to succumb to. And so Axel made it a point to visit Demyx on those nights when he knew he should have felt lonely, and he left his door open for the times when the ‘Nocturne’ was reminiscing about his ‘Schemer’.

So where did Naminé and Roxas fit into everything? They alone, out of all the Nobodies, could have passed for human. Why? Because their Somebodies were young, full of hormones and emotions, with indomitable hearts and . . . maybe so-so will. Will meant the same thing as smarts, right? Then Kairi probably had a little more will. Add in that they were still ‘fresh from creation’, still so new to nonexistence that they hadn’t felt more than the gentlest fraying at the edges of their minds when it came to the unreality of emotions, and there you were. Super emotional humans equals super emotional Nobodies, and the newbie-bunnies had yet to have their ‘souls’ crushed into unfeeling ash.

But it was wrong, so ungodly wrong that they had listened so closely to Xemnas. Naminé almost remembered but seemed to seal away or bottle up any kind of feelings she thought she felt, fake as they might have been. She had only really ever come to life in Castle Oblivion around Sora and Riku, when she was safe and far away from The Superior. Fates alone knew which world she was in now . . .

But Roxas? Roxas was a great irony and a walking double edged sword, much like the ‘Samurai’ he commanded. Roxas remembered nothing, so he had nothing to compare his current state of being to. In theory, he should have been hurting less because he didn’t know what he was missing. On top of that, Nobodies relied on their memories to figure out what they would probably have felt at any given moment, but if you had nothing to compare to, then you just had to go on instinct, right?

But Roxas believed Xemnas.

So Roxas didn’t act much.

But he did react a lot.

And Axel lived for those reactions at times because with Roxas, it was so simple to forget, so easy to believe. Without a doubt, Roxas was his ‘it makes the ache hurt less’ because the kid could--dare he jinx it?--make him feel real. Roxas was the reason he could regret not having a next life, and he could consider him a friend more than anyone else in the Organization. (Demyx would forever be a close second by virtue of the thought-stopping sex they indulged in to keep from going over that final edge and teaming up to kill every last sentient being--Hearted, Heartless, Nobody, and all things in between.)

But there it was for the universe to laugh at: Roxas’ one advantage was his greatest weakness. He could have saved them all, but he didn’t remember how.

Looking over at his blond friend, Axel was again annoyed that Roxas had no concept of the workings of human intimacy. Sulking and placing his head in his hands, he lamented the situation aloud.

“Why couldn’t the darkling have molested brownie at least once? Would have made my job worlds easier.”

“What molest who?” Cerulean eyes fluttered open as jungle green regarded them with a cool smile. Stupid pyro making him all . . . tingly.

“Nothing, no one. So how ya doin’? Need food? Drinks? More sleep?” he piped helpfully.

“Mmm.” That grunt was about as intelligent as he felt, given his mood. The dregs of sleep slurred his next words. “How’z the mission goinn’?” That was the last thing he remembered worrying about before blacking out, so Axel must have obviously fucked something up.

The redhead slapped at his own forehead. “Oi . . . Rox, the mission can wait. Even Mansex would want you in top form before trekking out to--”

“You screwed something up again, didn’t you?” Those azure eyes would brook no arguments. “Or did we screw it together?”

Axel’s mouth gapped a little at his friend’s unintended word play. But after shaking his head free of various false memories, he was able to respond with a resounding, “Nah, things just got weird, and you passed out on me. Well not on top of me--that would have been fun, though--more like you stressed so bad your body went into ‘auto self-preservation safety mode’.” Which was the essential truth; Rox just didn’t need to know who or what had stressed him.

The blond shifted under the off-cream sheets, settling his upper body on the matching pillows once behind his head. “Gods, you’re strange. Why the hell would it have been fun for me to pass out on you? I passed out, you had to drag my ass around like a dolly or something--Hey!” He reached over to smack his temporary roommate. “The hell?”

“N-nothing . . . short-stuff!” And he was laughing harder as Roxas continued to swat at him.

“I’m Not Vertically Challenged! You’re Just Freakishly Endowed!” The blond renewed his attempts to defend his ego--Nobodies had egos, right? Well if they had a sense of ‘not-self’, then they had to have a sense of ‘self’, which was just another name for an ego. Anyway, back to defending his ego from the louder and unbridled laughter with the intention of clubbing the pyro to death with his keys. And he would have too--he really would have. Except Axel had to grab both of his wrists and then pin them to the headboard, like he knew what Roxas had been about to do. Well, okay, given all the times he’d beaten his traveling partner for one transgression of sanity or another, it was probably pretty easy to read the throbbing vein in his temple or involuntary tic of his left eye by now.

Now, if he would just stop leaning over his body like that, then everything would be good again.

“Roxas, Roxas, Roxas . . . What am I going to do with you?” He knew what he’d like to do with him. “If you’d kept that up, then you’d be sprawled out all over the floor by now. Well, sprawled out on me on the floor by now . . .”

“Huh?” A sandy brow arched. Then it started to click in his mind: Axel had been backing away from him, and he’d followed to continue smacking. “I would have fallen off the bed . . . And onto your boney ass. Ouch, probably would have had a hell of a sore jaw.” Either from a random body part or the thin carpeting.

Now Axel’s jaw dropped. Oh boy, Roxas was not making this any easier on him, giving him straight lines like that. If only any of the other older Org. members were here, then he could have someone to laugh with him. But as it was, the firebug was left to his own devices.

Which pretty much killed any chances that Roxas had for a quiet night.

“Could I have my hands back now?” The Key-user gave a suggestive tug with his arms that clearly read, ‘Let me go idiot; you’re cutting off circulation.’ Unfortunately for Number XIII, he was not fluent in ‘Ax-in-ese’ and thus had no idea of possible alternate interpretations such a movement could have. [*]

In ‘Ax-in-ese’, tugging was a sign of impatience--usually physically related. Speaking of physicalities, Mansex wasn’t here looking over their shoulders--none of the three ‘elders’ were. No one to stop him--except Roxy--no one to say jack-shit about it--if it happened. Well, he was in a caring and sharing mood. And the kid had been making him horny ever since around a week or so after he got back from Oblivion . . .

Hmm, odd parallels started to work themselves out before the redhead’s inner eye. When Dem had sprung the ‘surprise sex’ on him, it sort of opened up a new light to see the sitar player in--a sexual companion as well as a close friend. And through some whacked out synergy, the thought had lodged in his head that if it was okay to fuck one blond, it was probably just as well to fuck the other. Right, Dem went homicidally passionate; they fought bad enough to destroy the robes they were in, then some water to choke out him and his fire, followed by unintelligible wailed sobs--fake, but appropriate, and the deepest the echo could come to being real--from the ‘water boy’, and then . . . burning that had nothing to do with fire and everything to do with physical heat. . .

That had no chance of working with Roxas. Blondie wasn’t a masochist nor a sadist, and Axel had a thing about not hurting him. That left . . . traditional methods full of slow action that gently--or at least evenly--tapered upwards to that final crescendo (as Demy called it).

More tugging brought him back down to Solaris [3]. Roxas was starting to go into that ‘trapped animal mode’ that had a tendency to lead to the nearest ass being kicked, which happened to be him. With a smirk, and a nod to himself to at least try, Axel did the first thing he could think of to diffuse the impending bomb.

When Roxas saw the redhead lean into him, he naturally assumed that the other was going to whisper something ‘Axel-ish’ regarding the situation they found themselves in. (Because heaven forbid that Axel would actually say anything about their mission, since it couldn’t possibly be more entertaining than annoying the hell out of him--nevermind how freakishly important it was!) So the blond, positive in his assessment of things, didn’t back away, or turn his head. He actually narrowed his eyes in an icy glare, and even pouted because the other was using his greater height and (slightly greater) weight to his advantage.

So to say that the kid was surprised . . . hold on, no emotions, so surprise didn’t work. Confused? No--Wait, confusion was a logic thing, not just an emotional thing, right? Your brain could still hurt even if your heart didn’t, so confusion was a legitimate way to describe this situation because Axel Was Fucking Kissing Him! On his goddamned mouth! WITH HIS GODDAMNED MOUTH!!

Things were looking pretty solid. His eyes were closed, but Rox wasn’t trying to bean him with a key, knee him in the ribs, or anything for that matter. Shit, he wasn’t even kissing back. O.o.o.o.k.k.k.k.k.k. [4] . . . Might as well try to liven things up a bit, see if that got some reaction out of the short-stack. Axel exercised a little more pressure with his lips, slowly massaging them against the other’s pair.

At that point Roxas tried to ask the resident psycho-pyro-path, ‘What the hell are you doing?’, because he figured that any sane, rational person--which Axel wasn’t, but he knew the Keybearer well enough to know shins got kicked when he went unheeded--would back off to find out what had been said.

Did he mention how Axel was neither sane nor rational? ‘Cause he wasn’t; not even slightly.

No Axel didn’t back off . . . Axel ran the tip of his tongue along the inside of his peachy lips. This led to Roxas becoming even more confused, and was it heating up in the room, or was that Axel? Was he going to burn him? Wait, why would he do that? Okay, so burning him was unlikely, at least intentionally anyways. But it was a little warmer in here and--

He’d left his mouth open.

Axel had noticed he’d left his mouth open.

Axel probably didn’t realize he had been too busy thinking to close his mouth. Key word ‘had’, because he sure as hell wasn’t thinking jack-shit with the jackass poking around inside his mouth. So Roxas was quiet; very, very quiet, and totally still. Until the redhead started nudging his freakishly large, red tongue (of course even his tongue would be long, Roxas later grumbled, everything about the pyromancer was bigger and longer than ought be allowed by natural order!) against his tiny, pink one. It was interesting, really interesting, and sort of familiar in one of those, ‘I’ve-never-done-this-before-but-I-know-everything-about-it’, kind of ways. This was the part where he pushed back, wasn’t it? Yeah . . . yeah this is what happened in his--! Fucking Hell! This happened in his dreams! His fucking dreams that he never re-fucking-membered!

Number VIII continued to squish his dexterous appendage against the little molest-tee. Of course that only reminded him of something else that he wanted to press up against the blond, but he wanted to keep said appendages attached, thanks much. But even with all his wiggling and prodding, Roxas just . . . lay there.

He’d just fucked everything up, hadn’t he?

O.k., time to pull back for damage assessment. Yeah, take his medicine like a real man--Nobody--whatever!

So Axel pulled back; pulled back with the expectation of meeting blue eyes filled with murderous intent.

. . . Or he could have been met with Roxy’s best impression of a lost puppy. Lost little flushed puppy. Oh yeah, he was da man.

Green eyes . . . his green eyes were laughing at him, and he had on the stupidest grin, and soon the idiot was going to start laughing at him for not getting this crappy joke, and--

“Not cool?” Axel had been so sure that Roxas was enjoying himself. But one usually wasn’t on the verge of tears when s/he was happy. So his smile had drooped, his eyes had darkened, and the blond was just rapidly blinking at him for some reason.

“Not . . . cool? Not Cool?! You’re making fun of me! Why would you care about it being cool or not!? You’re such a shithead Ax! You make the stupidest jokes at the worst possible times--It’s like you get your kicks out of fucking with my mind! Like everyone’s trying to see who can keep me in the dark about the punch-line the longest!--”

“Whoa whoa whoa, chill! I’m not making fun of you. Why would you even think that?” He removed his hands from the shorter male, figuring that it would only add to Number XIII’s distress if he held him down.

The Keywielder’s hands were fisted and shaking. “Because you always say and do the weirdest things! Like kissing me--there’s no reason for anyone to kiss me! I can’t fall in love or show affection, and you aren’t my family! And when we were at the faire you made a joke about me getting cooked like a turkey, but how in the worlds would I get stuffed with you!? What does it even mean to be stuffed?! And you’re always talking to Demyx about ‘boners’, and ‘stiffies’, and gods know what else! And--why the fuck do you talk like an alien all the time!?” He felt a little nauseated from the sudden release of tension that had been eating at him since the first few days after he was born. He’d just . . . but Nobodies didn’t feel anything, so he couldn’t have felt angry.

Damn it all, he needed to get a heart soon. [5] Then life wouldn’t be so confusing.

Axel blinked. “Why would I . . .? Why would I kiss . . . ? You really have no idea; you really fucking believe him.” A groan ripped itself from deep within his throat, and he threw his arms around the red-faced and near hyperventilating male. Hugging tight, and burying his nose into amber locks, the redhead attempted to calm his friend. “I’m not making fun of you. I swear by Odin’s far seeing eye [6] I’m not making fun of you.”

“Then . . . then what the hell are you doing?” Green eyes to hold him, and green eyes to . . . What did they do next? . . . What did blue . . .

“Heh, it’s not something you explain. But I can show you . . . if you didn’t think my kissing sucked.” One last nuzzle, and he pulled back from the scent of chocolate cake batter with a hint of brown sugar. Only little Roxy could smell so . . . innocent.

“Huh? Oh, no. More pushy than sucky; I mean, it was . . . surprising?” You needed a heart to enjoy things, right? Well, to enjoy things fully, because he usually ‘enjoyed’ hanging out with the redhead--when Axel wasn’t being irritating . . . usually. But there were times, just a few times, when he wanted to catch the mist of his passing dreams by the vaporous edges and retort in a vaguely impish way before he got the obligatory . . . something to the face.

“You’re surprising . . .”

Axel did a double-take. “I--What?”

“You, everyone. . . . Sorry,” he sighed. “Look, when I first walked into The Organization, everyone wasn’t nearly as . . . ‘friendly’? Friendly as they are now, to me. That’s part of it too, language, because I have this whole vast repertoire to pull from, but half of the vocabulary isn’t applicable to Nobodies. But that doesn’t lessen the meaning of the words, and sometimes they . . . fit. . . . Which doesn’t even make ‘nonsense’ because we don’t have emotions, so morals don’t apply, because they’re relative and based on cultural values, and we have nothing to gain from fighting each other, and why would any of us want something like personal gain when we couldn’t even enjoy it--”

“Roxas!” He waited for his smaller friend’s breathing to even out, as he was sure blondie was headed for a nervous breakdown. (Yay them; emotional trauma, and they were immune. Mental trauma and Nobodies were fucked.) “O.k., Rox, I need you to breathe. No thinking, just breathing. In and out, in and out, repeat. After that, then we’ll worry about everything else.” The fire-starter was hugging the Keybearer again, holding onto him for dear unlife. He figured that he could provide a kind of anchor for him, something stable amidst his chaotic thinking. If he’d had any idea that kissing the kid would’ve brought about this reaction, he’d have reconsidered his options. But why had Roxas freaked? Was it because he subconsciously knew he should have felt something, so when he felt nothing it sent him into shock? Must have, because number XIII was gripping him hard and shivering horribly.

Green eyes to hold him, and green eyes to save . . . and green eyes . . . him, . . . them, and green eyes to . . . them, as much as they . . . him. . . .

“I’m still here kid. I’m here and I’m not leaving you; not for all the hearts in all the worlds.”

Green eyes, “I--,” green eyes! “Everyone! . . . Everyone was . . . ‘mean’? . . . Standoffish when I first showed up. Even you used to be . . . ‘cranky’ around me. But then . . . I don’t know, people started to relax around me--us. Naminé had to deal with their shit too. Your jokes used to be . . . ‘nastier’. Save Xemnas, that’s the way it was with the gang until . . . I summoned up a Samurai for the first time, and Naminé proved herself with her memory drawings,” Roxas tucked his head closer to the scent of smoky cinn-a-mint gum, finding the familiarity calming. “Since then everybody’s . . . mellowed, and they’re cordial enough now, like . . . friendly in comparison. But everyone still talks crazy shit now and then, and I don’t always get what they’re talking about. . . . And you talk about it the most so . . . you’re my best friend, and you ritualistically piss me the hell off . . .” There were too many words to choose from. Each word represented a path to be followed to the future, and each path had it’s own offshoots and twists, and gods alone knew what else.

“Heh, I’m not trying to,” he brushed the bridge of his nose against a slender neck. “Far from it.” A few light nibbles, but Roxas didn’t push him away.

Green eyes . . . green eyes had always been there . . .

Axel got a little more daring, thinking that maybe, just maybe, his buddy needed some physical comfort. Continuing to hold onto the cobalt-eyed Nobody, the pyro shifted the remainder of his weight out of the armchair and onto the bed to lay parallel to the younger male.

Still no resistance. But no encouragement either.

“You still here Roxy?” The question was murmured against the sensitive shell of his pinked ear.

He was warming up again, and--though he didn’t know it--flushing, which he blamed on the redheaded pyromancer. But having him close by made it easier to focus on reality, because he made such a clear contrast to their surroundings. He was warm, solid, familiar, comforting . . .

“You still have your boots on.”

“Mmm?” The chakram thrower had successfully buried his face into spiked locks, and was too intent on his mission to inhale the blond to catch what he’d said.

“Your boots, that you’ve been wearing all day, are on the bed. And this is the only bed in this room, which should be clean when we sleep in it. So you should get your mud-caked boots off.”

Given Axel’s current state of mind, one should be able to forgive: 1) How long it took Axel to process the request; 2) The interpretation of the wording of said request.

“You . . . bed, together? Us?” Loki was a cruel--albeit caring--god to follow, and one did well not to question the things offered by him. . .

To his face. One sure as hell interrogated the shit out of them when his back was turned.

“Where else would you sleep in here, the floor? Now go take your shoes off if you’re gonna be up on the bed.” Was that such a hard concept to follow?

Sleep with Roxas; keep boots on? Sleep with Roxas; keep boots on? Sleep with Roxas--Hel take it, he could still die with a weapon in each hand if they were attacked during the night. But he wasn’t putting his footwear by the door with Roxy’s, too far to walk, and he’d rather be able to grab them after he got up in the morning, so they ended up under the bed. Hopefully said boots would be retrievable if they broke the bed. This was a low-star hotel after all (being as a ‘motel’ once scared the mead out of him, and boy was that not a fun way to sober up).

“There, better?” Now that the offending footwear had been dealt with, he looked back at--

Roxas was still trembling. It was slight, but it was there. And if Number XIII didn’t believe he could portray fear, then any other emotionally related reason for him shaking went out the window.

Right?

“Yeah, better.” He’d shifted closer to the center, to give Axel more space to lay down. He just wished that the other would settle back into place, because . . . he . . . ‘felt’ . . . odd, wrong even, like something was wrong . . . with him. And holding on to big, solid Axel made him . . . not focus on the . . . sensation nagging at him.

Contrary to popular belief, the firebug did have a (working) brain. (Might have been a little slow on the uptake sometimes, but he figured things out in the end.) And what his brain was kicking back to him struck him as logically impossible, given Rox’s conditioning by Mansex. But with the blond still looking flustered, and now and then tapping a spot on the mattress beside him, Axel was slowly coming round to the possibility that the squirt was in ‘gray-shock’.

‘Gray-shock’--or ‘shadow-shock’ depending on which member of The Organization you were talking to--happened the first time any Nobody experienced a situation where they consciously registered their lack of emotions, when in their pre-incarnation they would have felt something. Example, they get into an argument, and realize that they actually don’t feel angry, that adrenaline isn’t pumping through their veins, that their heart isn’t beating--let alone pounding--in their chest, and so on. Axel could only imagine the kind of agony Numbers I through VI went through--especially the Superior. Number X had gone into a kind of rage, whereupon Saïx had dragged Luxord back to the gambler's room, where the blond had spent the next half-day bodily throwing himself against the walls, and doing whatever else he could to hurt himself. Marly and Larly had more or less gone into shock right after awakening for the first time and had nearly crippled the ones who found them. (Probably a bonding experience for them to reminisce on later. Would explain why pinky was the only one in their ‘merry band’ who could get the time of day out of ‘The Savage Nymph’.)

When it came time for Demyx and himself to experience their first real concrete brush with the numbing aspects of the void, they’d simply had the equivalent of panic attacks. That was actually what started the whole crazy ‘Zemyx’ relationship. . .

If he remembered right Dem was helping Zex, or Zex was helping Dem. Either way an experiment was involved. Dem had gone into shock, and Zex hauled the blond off to his bedroom to fuck senseless--to keep the aquamancer from concentrating on his inability to feel.

The rest, as they say, is history.

When Axel’s turn came, he had curled into a ball and stayed that way for a week before Xig and Xal had taken matters into their own hands and gotten him drunk off his ass. (To his credit, he did frighten them with how well he was able to hold his liquor. But the ‘Dragon-Fire’ had been his undoing . . . after the third tankard. And he still had no idea how he ended up face down in bed between Numbers I and VII, fully dressed thankfully. Sadly he couldn’t say the same for them. Freaks. He could have happily continued his unlife without the knowledge that his Superior was uncircumcised, and by all rights Saïx should walk with a permanent limp. And he had never wanted to know the size of the Lunar Demon’s [7] ‘puppy’.)

But Roxas had been around for what, half a solar year, give or take a few weeks? Most Nobodies went into shock after awakening, the natural disorientation of creation sort of lent itself to that. True, that wasn’t always the case, he and Demyx broke down a month and a half apart, and that was several weeks after they had awakened with little clue as to where they were. Point was, Xemnas had drilled it into his brain that he--that all Nobodies--were incapable of successfully feigning emotions, and given his lack of knowledge and experience, his brain shouldn’t have been tripping him out. He had never felt anything, so why was he shorting-out about not feeling anything?

Was he that good a kisser?

“Damn it Ax! Lay the fuck down!” Roxas wanted to be distracted, and maybe go back to sleep.

The sound of the kid’s voice snapped Axel back into the present. And his buddy wasn’t fairing any better than when he’d started his digression. “O.k., yeah, laying down now.”

Stupid idiotic pyro, ‘bout damn time he started to listen to him. He’d only asked about a bazillion times! After some maneuvering, and minor realizations, Axel was comfortably under the sheets with him, facing the blue-eyed blond. And once he was down, Roxas struck, smushing his face into the redhead’s chest so as to facilitate inhaling mass amounts of smoky cinn-a-mint gum, a scent that always seemed to cling to the walls and linger in the doorways back home.

The pyromancer was stunned, but happily allowed his friend to nuzzle closer as the pair twined their arms around each other. The emerald-eyed trickster tucked his head down to catch more of that innocently sweet cake smell.

“I don’t think I’ll ever really understand . . .” Roxas had closed his eyes to the worlds, debating how likely it would be for him to fall back asleep.

Number VIII waited in silence, for the all of half a moment. “Understand what?”

“You. Life. The universe . . . everything. . . . Anything.”

A cheeky smirk. “Not much to understand about me. I like long walks by the sea, random battles, juicy roast beast [8], screwing like a mad rabbit on Viagra, and about half a day of downtime for cuddling and basking in the afterglow. And maybe cooking. . .”

Light giggles.

“See? No need to be serious all the time.”

Those giggles grew stronger, evolving into full body shaking laughter, and Roxas at last had to turn his body away to breathe. But were his eyes watering because of how hard he was laughing, or because he was hysterical?

“Hey, Roxy, buddy, you O.k.?” That worried viridian gaze spilled over the trembling youth.

“I don’t feel emotion, but I can be happy? Is pleasure a feeling or the result of positive stimuli? Seriously, are Nobodies even meant to think?! Are we really built for this shit?! We’ve got to be the half-baked joke of the cruelest gods out there! I can’t tell if my sanity is taking a bigger hit from having no heart or too much intelligence.” He gasped, taking in more air. “We’re walking contradictions aren’t we? We shouldn’t exist, but we do! So in theory there’s a place in existence for us, some kind of nitche that only we can fill, right? Because what kind of God would make something without giving it a purpose? Humans can--and do--do that all the time, but even then such creations are at least driven by amusement, right? Something to kill time while making it, and entertain them later after it’s made. So what are we Axel? We have to be the balance for something, right? Not just the leftovers of Heartless. And hell, even Heartless have a reason to exist: they’re the eternal darkness to balance the eternal light,” his eyes had been zipping back and forth scanning the room, but now they focused on the startled fire-flower.

Now Axel was the one blinking rapidly. “Rox,” he stalled dumbly. “Look,” he raked his hair back with his left hand--the one he wasn’t laying on. “Logical as that all is, no one knows the answers to that crap.” A weak smile, “Xemnas has been asking pretty much the same questions since his creation.”

“Really?” Green eyes to . . . pain . . . his--

“Really,” it was the truth. But he would have said anything to make the blond feel better. Maybe if he could calm him down enough . . .

“Kiss me.”

All of the chakram chucker’s thoughts came to an abrupt halt. And not the orderly kind of halt that happened when you shut off the power to a mechanized factory, and everything just stopped of it’s own accord. This was the kind of noisy, reckless halt that you got when a circus parade of pink elephants stopped in the middle of a winding mountain-path that was prone to rock slides, but being as it was a cartoon, the pachyderms could just bunch-up against the back of the leader until they shot backwards along said rocky path of imminent death.

Translation: Axel’s brain equaled total anarchy. Therefore, Axel did not have a working language center in his brain.

“Gei3tv9?! J33icd7?! Fgfws5g?!” [9]

“Kiss me. I don’t want to think. Concentrating on you keeps me from thinking, but you aren’t talking, and I can’t just keep myself from thinking, and my head’s starting to hurt, so just fucking kiss me again. And do that thing with your tongue, beca---”

Roxas found himself pounced on, lips sealed over and with the bony male doing what he could to keep from jabbing him with said marrow.

The last thought he allowed himself was, ‘Good, he does listen occasionally.’

Axel was almost positive he still had Loki to thank for all of this, and made a mental note to either cause extra grief and mischief during the next few missions, or attempt to hold a minor feast in the god’s honor (while creating more grief and mischief preferably). But for now, there were some things he was just dying to show to ‘The Key of Destiny’. Heh, key . . . so, very, wrong thoughts!

If the little Nobody had known anything about the adult world, he would have realized that the firebug was busily fucking his mouth. As the light-wielder understood things, Axel was just doing his best to keep him from thinking, like he’d asked/demanded/something-ed. He sighed, enjoying the peace of his mind, until he noticed that the redhead was prodding his own tongue. Guess he wanted to talk. So Roxas pulled back, or rather tried to pull back. Number VIII didn’t exactly move off of him when he pushed against the longer form. Mentally grumbling, Number XIII tried to inform his friend of his idiocy.

That would be the moment he lifted his tongue, and allowed the pyromancer to show him exactly what he wanted.

The blond’s eyes just about tripled in size when he felt his muscle captured and curled around. Then Axel uncurled and started to just slither and rub against him, now and then just simply . . . twirling? No, running laps around him? What the hell . . . God Damned Inadequacy Of Language!! Feeling all around his tongue! There, close enough. Stupid brain, had to think at a time like this. He needed to see where Ax got his brain’s off button at. Of course he’d inspect his first to make sure he could toggle it back on later.

The older male broke away, but before his friend could complain he mouthed the single word ‘air’, then proceeded to nip along his chin and jaw line. When he reached the hinge, he stopped to both kiss the fair skin and readjust himself before Roxas could ask him, ‘What the hell’s poking me?’.

Roxas conceded to the whole needing to breath thing, and allowed Axel to continue doing . . . things. He was beginning to understand some of the stuff the elders had mentioned before, namely the heightened sensitivity to physical stimuli to either make up for, or balance out the lack of emotional function. Every shift of their bodies, every press from the crazy fool, sent tremors throughout his smaller body. But not only were these sensations becoming more powerful, he was starting to feel more and more of the other’s heat building up.

Shit. He was probably going to burn him to keep him from thinking.

“You’re burning up.”

“Funny, I was just about to tell you that. What in the worlds made you think burning me would be a good distraction?”

Axel laughed at the other’s incredulous stare, “Man, I have waaaaaaay too much to teach you,” then he smirked and Roxas could almost read the words he was about to say in his glowing eyes, “I hope you can get it memor----”

Roxas struck. Like hell he was going to let him get off that stupid catch-phrase again. Maybe he could use the theory of conditioned reflexes to just train the other to not say it. But should he use positive or negative reinforcement to discipline him?

Wait! What the--?!

Axel had rolled them back over so that the blond was under him again, and--because he’d gone far outside of his mind when Roxy decided to get all assertive on him--was currently grinding his pelvis into the kid’s inner thigh. Roxas’ attacky-kissy was fun, Axel’s attacky-kissies were precise. He bypassed peach colored lips to go straight for a soft earlobe, nibbling lightly on the cartilage. His hands, and the long, slender, fingers attached to them, worked themselves under little shoulder blades, half as support, half as a means to push the blond thing into him.

Roxas was confused, even startled, but had to admit that what his friend was doing wasn’t undesirable. Unexpected? Highly. Though he still found himself concentrating more on what the other was doing than to what was happening to him.

But what the hell was poking him?

Weird. Axel didn’t carry his chakrams around, nor did the cloaks have any real pockets to speak of. Damn it, now that was going to bug him until he figured out what that was.

The fire-starter had left the ear in favor of nipping down along the tendons that led from the head to shoulder. He’d even worked open the zipper at the top part of Roxy’s robes to reveal more of his creamy-fair skin for him to stroke into a state of hyper-sensitization. So caught up was he with nibbling and petting the young boy he almost failed to notice the little hands pushing up against him. Though maybe hearing the other call out his name helped too.

“Waz’up now?”

The Key-wielder had been ready to answer, really. But he’d caught sight of his own body, uh, straining for attention? One sandy brow arched upward as the Nobody contemplated the meaning of this new monstrosity.

“Roxas? Why’d we stop?”

“Hmm? Oh! Something in your robe was poking me, and pretty much distracting me. But I guess it’s just as well we stopped, ‘cause I think I need to whizzle,” he even accented the after thought with an utterly adorable look of confusion combo-ed with a quizzical head-tilt.

“Think you need to . . .” Those jungle eyes trailed down along the petite body, and his faded red lips quirked into a laughing smile. Aaawww, Roxy’s first woody! And, wouldn’t you know it, he didn’t have a camera. So they’d just have to come up with a different way to celebrate.

“Hey Ax, could you make way? I don’t wanna wet the bed,” maybe he should just go over the baseboard. . .

“Sorry Rox,” with one hand he restrained the smaller one from getting up, “but I can safely say that you probably don’t need to take a leak.”

“Then why the hell else would my penis be doing . . . that?!” He narrowed azure eyes. “And don’t explain it with slang. Technical, medical, fine. Just not ‘Ax-in-ese’, use only normal human vernacular.”

The redhead in question suppressed as much of the pleasurable shiver running through his body as he could. Demanding little thing when he wanted to be, wasn’t he? “Look, while I’d love to oblige, that’s probably not happening. I know the ins and outs, but not the doctoral shit.”

“Fine,” he waved the other off, “but just remember, you start speaking alien, I summon Oblivion and knock your lanky ass out that window.” And Roxas jerked his right thumb over his shoulder to emphasis the threat.

Axel sweat-dropped, as he knew from firsthand experience that, 1) said window overlooked a drop of around thirty feet--hardly enough time to conjure a portal, let alone use it; and 2) Roxas was very capable of turning the strengths of others against themselves. In these tight quarters, Roxas could pretty much floor him, if Axel didn’t blow out the wall along the hallway first.

“Well then, better find out what ya know,” that wide grin was back on his lips, “stop me if you know the meaning of these words. If I say ‘Sex’?”

Blondie blinked.

“O.k. . . . How ‘bout ‘sexual’?” Brownie couldn’t possibly have been that sheltered.

Roxas narrowed his eyes with a, ‘You want me to beat your head in, don’t you?’ look.

Loki’s horns! What the hell kind of backwater shit-hole did Sora crawl out of?! Oh, wait . . . he didn’t have too much room to talk on that point. Stupid computers and data streams and cybernetic crap. “I’ll take that as a no. . . . Please tell me you’ve heard the term ‘intercourse’ before.”

“Intercourse . . . noun. It refers to the dealings or communication between individuals, groups, countries, etc. But it’s more commonly the interchange of thoughts, feelings, and such. Once it specifically referred to ‘communication to and fro’, then from French decent we get entrecours, from Latin intercursus ‘a running between, intervention,’ from intercursus, which is either the present or past particle--I forget which--of intercurrere ‘to run between,’ from inter- ‘between’ plus currere ‘to run’, which we know as ‘current’. Right?” [10]

The dancing flame was slack jawed, staring without seeing at his roommate. He wasn’t sure whether he should damn Loki, praise him, of beg for forgiveness. This wasn’t just going to be Roxas’ first time, Rox had no concept of what all was entailed with fucking. Here sat a completely virginal, untouched, un-despoiled, bubble-boy Roxas for him to have his lascivious (HA! See, he could think with big words too! Take that Xemmy!), kinky, and all around Axel-ish ways with him.

“Praise be to Loki, all of the Aesir, the Vanir, and whoever else had a dealing in this, for this bountiful feast I’m about to devour,” and with their blessing, let no mortal interrupt him before he finished his desert.

“Um, Ax? You’re drooling. And if you wanted to go eat, there are better ways to let me know . . .” Damn he looked creepy with that trademark insane glint to his eyes.

“Only thing I wanna eat is you--I mean! That’s not what I meant by ‘intercourse’! O.k., this will sound reeeeaaaaaally stupid, but, where do you think babies--human babies--come from?” Maybe the universe had downloaded all the technical data into his head without any of the interpersonal info.

Roxas contemplated the odd question. Although, he was partially distracted by the state of his phallus, as apparently it was very sensitive to when the cloth of his boxers rubbed against it.

“I know that the combination of genetic data is involved. Male data is called spermatozoa, and female data is called either egg or eggs.”

“Ah, but how do they come in contact with each other?” He took back wishing that any of the other Organization members were here with them. Though his want for a camcorder quintupled.

“All I’m coming up with is a white stork,” but that only explained the end result, how the babies were delivered to their parents. For the life of him, he couldn’t fathom how genetic data of a male interacted with data from a female. And Axel’s laughter didn’t help. Asswi . . . Huh? Ax had to piss too? What, did he have the muscle control of a camel, or was he just being polite and putting off his relief until he’d answered his curiosity?

He suspected this would have again made more sense if he had a heart.

“Loki’s horns! You don’t know jack about sex! By the gods!” The redhead doubled over, “You really have no clue!” In a few more seconds he would be curled up fetal.

“AXEL!! You Fucking Bastard! You Said You’d Explain This Shit! Not Laugh At My Expense!” Dark wisps of energy started to curl around his right hand, Oblivion awaiting his summons.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry, it’s just ::snirk:: just that by your age, every child on Solaris knew the ins and outs of sex--physical intercourse,” oh, Fates help him, he was giggling like a loon.

“Solaris?” That didn’t sound like anything in The World That Never Was. “Where’s that?”

“Where? . . .” His brain caught up to him, and he instantly sobered. “Oh. . . . That was my home, from . . . before.” Blue eyes flashed with confusion. “Before . . . I was a Nobody.” Those eyes widened in disbelief. “When I was someone, somebody.”

He felt--he fucking felt--dead. “You . . . remember?”

A dejected sigh. “We all remember. You and Nami were the only odd ones out. There’s a reason why we lied! Xem’s orders! I can tell you reason one now, but reason two has better documentation at home, so don’t go skull-bashing me!” He waited a ‘heartbeat’, and when Number XIII didn’t react, he pressed on.

“Look, we don’t know all the details of who you were, but Xem didn’t want you two to know so he could do his insane experimentation shit. I swear he has to shoot a stiffy every time he does some new warped science crap. But, well, the other members are like controls, because we remember, we can act, but you don’t remember, so you have to go on instinct, ya know? You can’t fake your knowledge of emotions, so every time you’re in a new situation, you have to come up with your own solution. At least that’s how Mansex said it. Basically, you could potentially help the Organization figure out how Nobody minds are wired. Maybe. Look if I’m wrong, Xemnas has a fucking book somewhere in the Archives Of The Forgotten--or as sane people call it, the goddamned Library--outlining this shit. It’s a reference book with a data lock on it to keep you and Nami out--not that we need to worry much about Nami anymore. So don’t hit me, O.k.?! I’m bad with remembering boring shit!”

“. . .”

“Roxas?”

“. . .”

“Roxas?!”

“. . . I’m . . . my life is an experiment? For The Superior? . . . But, he’s our king! He cares about all the Nobodies! The whole point of making a Kingdom Hearts was so we could all be whole again!” He was breathing fast, taking in little air each time, which was why he was breathing fast, because he apparently couldn’t breathe deeply. “Why wouldn’t he at least tell me I was an experiment?!” Cruelness was based on morality, and morality was based on the cultural values of propriety, and propriety was an overall esthetic (Aesthetic? No, esthetic) principle, an emotional principle no less, and since Nobodies could not feel, morals were inconsequential--what was good for the Organization was good for all Nobodies, and thus good for them, and that made it good, no matter how others viewed it--therefore they were not bound by propriety, so cruelness was an extraneous and unnecessary glitch in their network, for the only thing Nobodies had left to them was logic.

Oh, Axel had pinned him down again. Funny, he wasn’t even annoyed. Kissing . . . was . . . he decided that kissing was a good distraction. He decided Axel was a good distraction. That, and now still wasn’t the time for him to think.

‘Well,’ the redhead reasoned, ‘if it worked for Demy when he went into shock. . . .’

Jungle eyes pulled up and away from peachy lips. “Damn. The universe really is a fucking bitch. I’m sorry Roxas, but I think she gave you all the words and Nami all the pictures. You know the terms, but you’re blanking on the process. So, if you’ll allow me, I’d like to give you a physical demonstration.”

::Blink.:: “Physical?”

“Intercourse. Physical intercourse,” just the sight of the blond pinned under him had his need painfully aching for relief.

“Intercourse. . . . But you’re not a girl. I’m not a girl either. We’re both guys,” even Ax had to see the glaring problem there.

Okay, note to self: Never surmise what Axel should do; he will simply laugh and do something randomly chaotic.

“Roxy,” soft nuzzle to a little temple, “sex doesn’t happen just to further a species. It’s pleasurable for humans. Physically and . . .” The realization made him pull away again.

“Emotionally . . .” the youth supplied. Once again, Roxas was confronted with the sad truth of Nobodies.

“Yeah, but,” forced smile, “we feel more, to make up for it. Heightened sensory input and processing I was told,” Number VIII chuckled lightly, “though I guess that means we skip the foreplay.”

“Foreplay?” How did that relate to procreation?

“Sort of the emotional mood setter for sex. Lots of touching, some cuddling, maybe naming, real lovey-dovey stuff,” nevermind he was a sucker for it.

“You’re disappointed,” blue eyes frowned at the other’s attempt to keep him from worrying.

Deep sigh, filled with longing. “You can’t--it wouldn’t really . . . you’ve never done this before, even if the other you ever had, then you don’t remember. I’m not a virgin, haven’t been since before Ragnarok--my world got eaten. I remember what pleasure feels like, the sensations of being pressed close to a lover, that consuming passion, that blinding need. I’ve been gentle, I’ve been rough, I’ve always been mindful, but you . . . you won’t get full enjoyment out of it.”

Steady, sure eyes. “Because . . . I can’t pretend?” A solemn nod. Damn it all, he didn’t want to think but . . . it stood to reason . . . and since all he had was logic. . .

Roxas sat up, curling his legs under him (which made his boyhood stick out even more prominently, and that caused rubbing, and just made his brain shut down).

“Children learn to ape--mimic--the behavior of their parents, and other elders of their society, as well as their peers. That’s the simplified version of learned behavior. So,” he faced the slightly confused male resting beside him, “How can I pretend if no one shows me? Humans learn by doing, no hive-mind mentality easy way out of it. You . . . want this foreplay stuff. So . . . it has to be important. If it’s important, then we have two options: wait until I’ve accumulated enough experience to pretend--to act like I can feel, or . . .”

Number XIII lowered his slender frame lengthwise onto bemused crimson. “We do it now.” Axel laughed, and he realized his miscalculation of their options. It was so simple really, he gathered he should feel silly.

“Teach me to feel.”

Number VIII went silent. So, the kid was serious huh? “I can do that,” he rolled them over so that he was astride the younger one’s hips. “But I can guarantee that you’ll want to kill me when we’re through . . .” Another cheshire smile, “Though ya know Roxy, I’m like a dog with a bone.” And he ground their lower bodies together, which apparently made all kinds of pleasant sensations run through the flaxen boy. “There’s no taking that order back later.”

“Fine! Just! . . . You’re teaching me, okay? So you have to explain stuff to me. I can’t learn if you don’t communicate with me . . .” How was he supposed to act? Was he supposed to even be talking back?

“Right, right, the ins and outs of mateeeee-kking love.” Damn, tripped over his own instincts, “When it comes to humans,” one gloved hand went back to the zipper down the front of his clothes, “it all breaks down into fitting male ‘tab A’ into female ‘slot B’. Ow!”

“You do know that I ain’t opening the window before I chuck you out it, right?”

Axel grumbled at the other’s adorable pouty face, even as he tended to his abused kneecap. “For all your words, you know nothing about the importance of sound and meaning. No. This is me teaching, so no talkies. I learned about the importance of language from Demyx. Back on Solaris he was a bard, which made him one of the most important--and potentially most devastating--beings around. Solaris didn’t have the tech HQ has, and libraries were more for the elites than ‘Sven Average’--unless it was insanely important. Stories passed through the ages word of mouth style, and bards were the ones who knew all the oldest, best, most powerful stories. They wove our livelihoods into immortality. So yeah, I could get into the medical shit, but that’s all dead, wrapped in plastic, and . . . sterile.”

He stuck out his long red tongue like he was trying to shake off the worst taste in the known worlds.

“Solaris . . . Solaris was the polar opposite of The Organization and The World That Never Was. Men and women were steeped up to their eyelids in emotions. I was a living ball of passion, rage, lust, joy, and almost every other emotion you could name--same with the gods! And you should have seen the dwarves, good folks dwarves. They knew the best ways to make mead--at first--but no mortal could top them when it came to metal craft,” hands . . . ! Duh, undressing Roxas. It went faster with him using both hands than with using none.

“Dwarves?” He would have liked to see that.

“Yep, elves too. Light and dark elves. And giants. Mostly frost, but we had, uh, other kinds too,” the zipper gapped wider and Axel opened the collar to display the depression made by the breastbone between the pectorals. Those royal blue eyes fluttered as he traced over taunt muscles. Heh, he was all smooth up top. Shouldn’t have been so surprising but still, did that mean he wasn’t furry down below? Part of him twitched at the idea of finding out, and he groaned slightly at his need to keep control.

“Your home . . . sounds . . . colorful,” he felt all fluttery inside. But he’d have to complain to the owner of this place that their thermostat was broken because he was really starting to sweat, probably stained his robe too.

“Heh,” he leaned in to nuzzle and lick at the exposed throat, “it’s all checks ‘n’ balances there--was,” a quick lick to the chin, “humans were the best all around, not the strongest or weakest in anything. Even the gods,” his nose nuzzled gold silk, “had their flaws, though their powers were still better than mortals--‘cept the metal work,” nip to neck tendons, “the giants were strong as fuck and dumb as shit,” then a kiss to soothe heated flesh, “the dwarves were stubborn mules, and . . . to put it politely . . . the dark elves were freaks and the light elves rocked ass.” Rocked ass . . . Roxas . . . Roxas rocked ass . . . Roxas the light elf!

“What’s so funny?” If Axel wasn’t going to undress him, he’d just do it himself soon.

“I’ve had an epiphany,” and he opened the zipper further in celebration, “you’re now officially a light elf.”

“AX! I’m Not Fucking Short! You’re Too Tall!” Stupid, thoughtless, pyromaniac.

“Ah, but you’re the prefect height for an elf. And besides, size was not an issue for them. They may have been small, but they knew how to use it to their advantage. And they had powers beyond humans, powers that more than made up for their lack of physical strength. Sooo,” a chased kiss, “you get to be an elf!” And to prove his point he started to nibble on the unsuspecting one’s ear.

The little one squeaked and soon found that gloved hands had slipped inside his robe, under his back. The warmth of those hands, the feeling of his ear being devoured; it all buzzed near painfully in his mind.

He decided that the gods were cruel. Nobodies knew nothing of emotions, having been stripped of every last one, but were left with longing and want.

But they never said what they longed for. Nor what it was they should want.

“Ah . . .” Want. Blind, confused, but strong, “A-Axel!” Fingers gripping and slipping down a long, lean, back. He suddenly hated his own robes, ridiculous as the thought was. They made him feel like he was trapped, and if there was one thing Roxas could not abide it was being restrained in any manner. He bucked into the one above him, needing some kind of room to tear off his cloth fetters. Axel growled, and nipped his ear harder, and the ‘Key’s’ body froze from the jolt to his system.

So his cutie was impatient was he? Sweet! Well . . . screw it, foreplay rocked. Still . . . O.k. compromise: nekkid foreplay!

The firebug sat up again, leaving Roxas flushed and near murderous below him, but he figured that the kid--smart cookie that he was--would be able to put two ‘n’ two together. So with lacking fanfare the redhead stripped out of his robe. Thank gods for zippers, because he probably would have lost any buttons anchoring him closed in his haste. All that stood between him and exploring the uncharted waters were his tented boxers--black--socks--also black--and gloves--still black, but they weren’t coming off.

Rapid blinking. “People of your world . . . must have been . . . intense,” Number XIII now felt wriggly and twitchy to go with the fluttery.

“Yeah, people,” stand up or lean back to get the rest off? Beds were soft. Was Roxas soft? Ooooo, naughty Roxas thoughts! Scooting back off the blond he fluidly wrenched off his socks then stuffed them into their matching boots. However, that meant that his bedfellow was overdressed for the occasion. True, so was he, but all he had to do was peel off a scrap of fabric.

‘Ding! Time to undress the Roxas!’ And he lunged with the fervor of a starved wolf.

Roxas squeaked because he was almost positive that Axel was attacking him--which he was in a sense. The redhead was just aiming for his zipper . . . with his teeth . . . Dear gods what was his world like?

Axel held the zipper between his front teeth, and slowly pulled the metal down the length of the toothed track. But even as he undressed the boy, he never broke that mesmeric gaze he was obviously holding the Key-bearer captive with. Even when he had the kid unzipped, Roxas could only blink at him and flush a deeper pink. Soon the garment was open, but that didn’t stop the pyromancer from continuing his torturous ministrations. Still gripping the chunk of alloy, the redhead lifted the attached cloth to the side, exposing a large swatch of the blond’s body. He let it fall, then nipped up the other end-edge of the hem, and gave it a mirror treatment. Now this was the problem, he couldn’t actually take Roxy’s robe off with his mouth and still have it be romantic . . . this time.

“Rox? Think you kin [can] shrug outtaa that on yer own?” Urge to shut down brain rising.

“Na-huh,” and the black fabric glided down off his shoulders. Thinking better of it, he then gathered it up and tossed it off to the side. Meanwhile Axel was occupying himself with stripping the young teen of his socks--again, using only his teeth, though this time he was a little more mindful of where he was nipping. As much as Roxas was intrigued by the show, he pulled off his gloves on his own, hoping to expedite whatever whacked out plan the psycho had set in motion.

‘Ugh, damp boxers . . . I should have gone to the restroom anyway,’ the little Nobody had no time to follow that thought as the larger male had taken it upon himself to sit himself between short(er) legs. Gods above, he was shedding excess heat like a longhaired house cat shed fur!

Axel just loomed over the shorter male, breathing in the musty scent of their combined arousal. He was probably drooling, but that wouldn’t matter for much longer. Leaning down, he nuzzled a warmed cheek with the tip of his nose, humming in satisfaction. This was his Roxy, damn it! All his! And, predator that he was, there was only one real way to mark one’s life-mate.

::Lick::

Roxas gave no reaction.

The redhead tried again, moving from cheek to neck. He nibbled and suckled on the collarbone, hoping to get some kind of response.

But there was none save Roxas’ attempt to regulate his breathing.

Axel smiled, sadly, bitterly. “See, this is why I said we should wait . . . You’re not enjoying this.”

Blondie blinked in astonishment. “But you’re my friend,” his brow furrowed, “you’re my best friend. This is important to you, so it has to be important to me.” That’s how it had always been between him and green eyes. . .

The pyromancer just chuckled, though he was touched by the sentiment in that determined statement. “O.k., O.k. Just stop being too serious. That face is a mood-killer.”

The blond’s initial reaction was to growl, but he minded the elder’s request. Instead he settled with a gentle pout. “But you haven’t been telling me how to act,” then he looked up with a bat of his lashes, “I need you to tell me what to do.”

The flame-thrower growled low in his throat, amused once more at the young one’s unconsciously sensual actions. He swooped in for a hard kiss, slipping his tongue in again for another taste of his blond. He pulled back with a contented sigh, still seeing that adorable pout challenging him.

Another lick to his cheek. “Keep doing that face . . . for now anyway,” and he let his instincts do the talking. Still clad in their black boxers--and fireproof gloves in the redhead’s case--Number VIII pulled the light-wielder tight against his body. From there, he held fast to the lithe frame, and proceeded to drag his tongue up from a shoulder, swirled over the edge of a collarbone, until it played along cartilage. The blond shivered against him, and that was all the incentive he needed to slide and rub his aching need along and against the other’s (presumed) throbbing agony.

Roxas’ mind was awhirl with sensation, having never before experienced this kind of sensory input from his body. A part of him was even afraid that his mind would shut down from an overload. “A-Axel?!” Desperate, wanting, was this how things were supposed to be? Had green eyes ever done this with . . . whoever before? “AXEL!” Something . . . inside him . . . What was this?!

Axel simply backed away long enough to disrobe the small one with his teeth. Looking up he hooked a thumb into his own waistband, starting to slide off his clothes as well. But when he caught an eyeful of Roxas standing at attention, it was all the trickster could do to whistle his surprised appreciation. (Roxas’ boxers having been spat onto the chair beforehand.)

‘Well, just . . . Damn.’ Oh, right, his boxers were still half on.

Roxas took his own gander at his bed mate, and soon had his head quizzically tilted to the side. His brows were furrowed, and he bit his lip utterly at a loss with the situation. He concluded that there was nothing for it but to ask the more experienced male.

“Ax? . . . How come your pen--”

“Rox, for my sake, don’t call it that. Try cock, or dick. Poll, meat-stick, twig ‘n’ berries, prick, wang, knob, man-meat, woody, pecker, boner, arousal, tool, length, hard-on, stiffy, brain--anything other than penis or phallus.”

The little Nobody face faulted. “That’s what you and Demyx talk about all the time?! Oh my gods . . . yeah, fine, whatever. Why does your ‘dick’ look . . . different than mine?” Axel’s skin looked as though it was stretched taut over the flesh. And, if his reckoning was right, that white stuff was ‘male data’ beading out of him. . .

Shit, make that them. So that’s why his boxers felt all icky.

“There’s alot of reasons why. But I’m thinkin’ you mean, why is mine all pink and smooth-looking?” He waited for that telltale nod, drooling at the implications all the while. So . . . Roxy was all-na-tu-ral. Figured that short-stuff would kill him, but hey, he’d definitely die happy! ‘Wonder how many times I can make him come before he strangles me . . .’

“Well the rest are kind of obvious. I think,” unless age didn’t play any part in size, “but yeah, I’m all peach and cherry, and you’re all . . .”

“Unrelenting pain. Short version? It was popular on Solaris to peel off the extra skin down below to keep the male types free of ‘wasting sickness’ and genital rot. Common sense for most worlds to do that, but you get a few that say it’s a waste to hack it off since they think it does more harm than good.” Like the fact that if they didn’t get this dog and pony show going he was going to have to love himself all over the bathroom.

“Wait, so I’m gonna get--”

“You’re a Nobody, so I’d say ‘no’. We don’t do sicknesses. No mortal cells for germs to grab onto,” stupid unlife. Couldn’t take a day off for even the common cold. Cold . . . viruses . . . !!! Oh yeeaaaah. Roxas would probably appreciate a ‘rubber’. The pyromancer lifted himself (gingerly) from the bed and meandered over to the night-stand.

The blond youth blinked confusedly as his friend pulled open the top drawer. “Ax? What now?”

“Just remember a few things. Namely lube and condoms. Sweet! I knew the newlyweds had to have been unpacking.”

“ . . . You want to try that over? From the beginning?” It wasn’t him, right? No, it couldn’t be, this was Axel he was dealing with. It was never the other person’s fault when Axel was speaking.

“Umm,” he wrapped a hand around something unseen, “Oh! Right. When I first ‘ported here I was looking for an empty room. I misjudged and ended up crashing here, which scared the fuck out of the ‘mister and misses’. Least I think they were married kids. Oh well, just as well if this is a love hotel. Anyways, I had to shut them up before they woke the neighbors, so I ousted their hearts. Didn’t even get any Dusks from them. Since they were just baby Shadows I called in a few of my Assassins to keep an eye on them,” he turned with a smile, holding whatever objects he’d retrieved, “we aren’t on Galdrial anymore. This is Tethlem, an open world. And by now, those baby Shadows and my boys have probably converted a few houses on the far side of this world into the start of our army for tomorrow.”

“Well look at you, using that brain for something other than a paperweight. I mean, you actually thought about our mission for once!” Normally he wouldn’t be grinning, so he blamed it all on this ‘sexual intercourse’ stuff.

Now it was the redhead who was pouting. “I’m plenty smart,” then he smirked as he settled himself back onto the bed, “the trick is to never show the boss-monkey just how smart I am. Then no one suspects that I can possibly get one over on them.”

Double blink. “Get what now?”

Another sigh. “Another day Rox, another day. Now, time for the sex-prep! And, don’t take this personally, but since you know jack, you get to bottom.”

“What did I say about english?” Axel had clocked in Oblivion’s appearance from nothingness at 0.009 seconds. Any disputers? No? Light-speed it was then!

“Thor’s beard . . . O.K., just put the key dooooowwnnn.” Roxas placed it across his lap. “You remember me saying how male tab ‘A’ goes into female slot ‘B’?”

“Yeah, and then I said, neither of us is female. Then you never explained how this works with two guys,” he was reconsidering giving the pyro a thump to the head.

“Well . . . instead of fitting in between your legs, I’m aiming for a little behind . . . and above them,” Axel was gonna die now, he knew it. Blondie was gonna backhand him out the window and into the streets.

Number XIII’s knowledge of anatomy was not lacking, even if his knowledge of each body part’s function was. “You . . . want to put . . . your pe--cock in my . . . in my--”

“Ass. Yes. With extra lube and a condom to catch my love juice. Shitting cum is unpleasant, and usually messy. And it’ll begin to feel weird inside you after a few hours. The cum, that is, after I shoot it out of me.” Maybe he should have taken bardic lessons with Dem, or at least not slept through the golden-brunet's classes.

Roxas felt stupid not being able to use the proper medical terms for his biology, but the other would have just groaned and rolled his eyes again, and would probably refuse to answer his questions. “But . . . those muscles are supposed to stay closed. Like watertight shut. I mean, sure they open up for waste, but how is something going to get past them, let alone inside me?”

And with a devil’s smile he answered, “With practice,” then he kissed his blond on the lips again. ‘Suicidal much?’ His danger sense nagged him. Damn straight he was, but there was something thrilling about tempting death at Roxas’ hands.

The young un-mortal seemingly melted into that kiss, pressing himself flush to the larger form. What Number VIII failed to notice--as he was busily popping the top on the bottle of ‘personal warming gel’--was that his bedfellow hadn’t actually let go of his weapon when he wrapped his arms around him. So it was, when he jerked up in surprise, that the tiny teen stated in a flat, yet overly-sweetened voice, “You will not lie to me about anything I ask you. Yes?” Axel nodded vigorously, mentally recording the boy’s every intonation and minute body language for integration with future fantasies involving the blond in a french-maid’s outfit with a leather whip. “Good. Now, tell me--,” and he ground the teeth of Oblivion into the other’s back on the word ‘tell’, “--how badly is this going to hurt?” Logic dictated that when you made something do the opposite of what it was built to do, it would fight back at the best, and suffer extreme stress at the worst. And if the feature was organic in nature, then it was tied into nerves . . .

“Depends on how much you trust me,” he would not whine. He would not whine. He would not pounce and simply ravage Roxas without so much as a warning.

“So, if I trust you more, it hurts less?” Yeah, he wondered how many times Axel’s pre-self must have used that line on unsuspecting lovers.

He was not a love-sick puppy. He was not--just--a savage wolf. He--fuck it. He wanted Roxy’s ass! “Yes! If you freak out, your body will tense. Tensing means resisting, means I push harder, means your body likes me less and you hurt more. You just give up and give in, I stretch you out, you get used to things, I get in, no muss, no fuss, and as little hurt as possible. Hell, if we’re lucky--which means that ain’t happening any less than a week from now or you’d kill me--you’ll get to the point where it just doesn’t hurt anymore. But there’s only two ways that happens. One, I get your complete trust, you go dead relaxed and actually fight off your body’s natural reflexes. Two, more common, I sex you up so many times that your body stops caring. YEOW!” Keys in bad places! And not in the ‘good’ way.

“Translation, my muscles lose their watertight sealing ability. Thanks, but I don’t feel like having crap randomly run down my legs. You?” Son of a bitch was mad if he thought he’d agree to that.

“Hey! You said--”

“Never mentioned that I would or wouldn’t hit you if you lied or said shit I didn’t like,” but he unsummoned his blade back to . . . wherever it went, “but I was stupid enough to get into this mess . . . so, just this once--”

“It’s better than you think it sounds!” ‘O mighty Thor, O wise Odin, grant me the strength and wisdom to convince him to do this more than once! Loving Astrild, fiery Freya let him see reason! Beauteous Gerd, let this be easy on him! And dad . . . CUT ME A FUCKIN’ BREAK!’ [11]

His sandy eyebrow went up again. “Better how?”

“It’s fun! And, after we get moving, it’ll feel good, like . . . Damn it I don’t know! I think the human body is built to enjoy it so people don’t really think about who they’re doing!”

“You mean ‘how’, right?” Freaky.

“Did I say ‘how’? Hell, people get sloshed, it could even change to ‘what’!” He was beginning to reconsider tying Roxas to the bed frame. It looked like blondie just wanted to play twenty question all night, and he was already more than half past exploding.

“Sex is that good?”

“People get addicted! They need self-help-groups to quit!” Goddamned fucking desperate sounding edge to his bloody voice! He was fucking set to launch! To fucking launch!

Roxas considered the information. However, “Ya know, you aren’t all that convincing with the--” ‘. . . whole ‘crazy’ look in your eyes?’

The redhead had finally snapped. He let out a heart piercing whine from the back of his throat. From there--still whining--he began lapping at pudgy cheeks and pinked nose. He was desperate for release, but his animal instinct wouldn’t let him physically hurt his intended mate. Gods above, a mate. He really was going to take him as a mate. Even Demyx had just been a friend, someone whose need he’d had to fulfill, someone who he could bang until his head was straight again. The other Organization members had just been quick fucks for stress relief, and the sentiment was mutual. Hell, he got more out of the hapless mortals he’d sex-up on past missions--prior to turning them into Heartless, of course. But this? . . .

Gods help him.

Dem had tamed him, but Roxas was breaking him.

Roxas, for his part, was blinking rapidly at this turn of events. Axel, honest to goodness, sounded like a beaten pup who just wanted a little treat. Really, just a tiny smattering of love--was that so much to ask? But . . . the kid was just boggling over the concept of the firebrand sounding like . . . a . . . canine. Bigger than life Axel, reduced to a begging hound.

Because of him.

He was hurting his green eyes . . .

Again.

“S-so Ax . . . how do these condom thingies work?” It was like a miniature sun had broke over his friend’s face with the asking.

He was grinning so hard! “Rwarff!” He left him with a light nip to an ear. “Universally, they prevent babies. Some worlds they even prevent sex sickness,” he sat up some and took up one of the individual packets he’d brought over.

“Wait, these prevent people from becoming addicted?”

“These look like ‘latex’, so yeah. Trade off of keeping your junk working is you lose a shit ‘n’ half ton of feeling in your gear--cock. All that skin makes for uber-heightened senses. Sometimes these are made out of soft animal skins--like pig, sheep, or goat--but it still don’t feel as good as bareback. Oh, shit, stupid me, you don’t know what I meant.--”

“I can gather that if these things inhibit sensation, than you mean to say guys enjoy sex more without them. Even if that makes their partners feel uncomfortable,” which, when he thought about it, made sense, and it was kind of touching that Axel was gonna use a condom for him.

“Yeah, but that’s not what I meant by sex sickness. Um, there’s alot of nasty-ass shit out there, including diseases that get passed around through sex. These things aren’t fool proof, but they stop the bullets about eighty ta ninety odd present of the time. Not that Nobodies have to worry about that, but you asked. Now, can I open this?”

“Sure, but could you pass me that other one you pulled out?” He slid back out of the other’s lap so that he could have room to maneuver.

“Dude, Rox, you’re not topping me, remember? I know how to fuck, you don’t, I’m teaching you . . . Right?” But he picked up the thing anyway.

“Yeah, but think about this: I’m gonna ejac-----”

“--Come.”

“--Come too, right? And where is my white stuff gonna go?”

“ . . . On the bed?”

“The bed we’re sleeping on?”

Ohhhhhhhh, smart Roxy! He grinningly handed over the other prophylactic. Well then, if worse came to worst and he wanted a round two--but was dead--he’d get one of his boys or a random Shadow to push the box closer.

“O.k. look for the little dotted line. You rip it--CAREFULLY--open there. Just watch me for now. You rip it open like this . . . then, again carefully, pull out the rubber. That’s the bitch about latex, it’s more effective with stopping shit, but it’s easier to break. In theory you could double up with goat skins, but two of these, and the friction from each will rub them apart. So you have to unroll it on yourself instead of just opening it like a trash bag. But first! Lube, so you don’t chafe.” [12]

After a short episode of bungling open the personal sized bottle--that even included Axel gnawing on the lid in desperation--the duo was able to get down to business.

“Lots of different kind of gels out there, some like this have a special add-on for people to enjoy it more. Not sure if the warming is for the girl, guy, or both . . . Meh, remind me tomorrow that we need to knock over some novelty sex stores in this world along with the usual list.” The World That Never Was couldn’t actually support mortal life. There was no sun, so there were no plants. No plants meant no herbivores, meant no carnivores, meant no food chain to speak of. As such, the ‘thirteenth order’ had to get their groceries from off world. (They had to get just about anything but building supplies from off world, including extra munny. Truth be told, there were times when negotiating and bribing people worked better than brute force.)

“Okay. So I put on gel first?” The small one had yet to open his thingy.

“That’s sort of a given but,” a sly smile cut across his lips, “remember foreplay? Some of the best kink involves prep-work. Hottest shit? ‘Prolly an experienced lover masturbating--or near-masturbation--or prepping their less knowledgeable lover.” He was drizzling the clear goo over his head, watching it mix and slide down his hardened length with his precum. He dared a glance at midnight eyes, and found that his audience was captivated.

But apparently still cognitive.

“So how’s that in english?” Stupid fluttery, tingly, twisty, jitteriness! How was he supposed to learn if he was distracted? It was hard enough not to wonder what it would feel like to have that liquid running down ‘him’.

“Oiiiiii,” mustn’t kill, mustn’t kill, just had to drop the bottle and smooth the gel over himself now, “I repeat, you do not know what to do. Part of the foreplay this time is me doing things for, and subsequently to, you. Part of it is you watching and learning from me, as I pleasure myself, so you get an idea of how to pleasure yourself, so that way next time you can either practice on me, or just ready yourself while I watch you. Because, when you really get down to it, the hottest part of foreplay is doing shit with your mate--partner, lover, whatever!” There, no slang. No room for Roxy to ask again. He said it Zexy-style, everything should have been crystal clear. Sort of. O.k., he’d explain the whole emotional aspect of it later when he wasn’t about to drill through a damned wall!

“Damn, if this is so fun, why are you so pissy?”

“Because I Hurt! . . . It . . . hurts . . . there. . .” Fucking hell, just fucking bloody hell. He continued to steady his breathing even as his gloved hand worked over the aching flesh. His eyes had closed when he’d snapped, not that he’d meant to shout at the little one, just that this wasn’t exactly the most pleasant part of screwing for him.

“O-oh. . . . I didn’t know--I didn’t think . . . then why don’t I hurt? Is it because . . . I’ve got . . .”

“All your skin? Yeah. I’m smooth cause I have no freaking slack. Which fucking sucks when I’m up for more than three minutes, and even then it ain’t the best of times for me. Back in the day I loved seeing how wet I could make a wench without fingering her. ‘Course it helped that I wasn’t circumcised at the time . . . Not sure why in unlife I’m like this. Still throws me for a loop. From asking around, far as I can gather, the way you are in life is the way you are now for everyone else,” he offered a shrug, and cracked open his eyes.

“But you said it was popular on your world?” Very confusing, and something was nagging at the back of his mind.

“Never said I got cut,” he was lubed up, now he just needed to slip into something uncomfortable, “watch me now, ‘k?”

“Um?! Ah, right.”

Axel looked over the plastic disk-like thingy, before turning it over and motioning for the blond to move in closer. Roxas stared on as he saw the firebug push the cover over himself, and that the latex did indeed unroll over his length as he eased it down. Soon he’d run out of flesh to cover, but it also looked like he’d run out of rubber.

“Heh, either ‘Sven Doe’ was hung like me, or damn optimistic,” could have gone a size wider, but robbers couldn’t be choosers.

“ . . . That deadens your feelings. I mean, that blocks some of the sensations, right?” That nagging idea was starting to order itself out.

“Yeah . . .” Hmmm, Roxas plus thinking equaled another Godforsaken wait to get laid.

“Circumcision takes away feeling. Condoms take away feeling. Sex heightens feelings, and being a Nobody heightens feelings, including already heightened feelings.” One plus one plus one plus one . . . [13]

Now Axel was worried, which offset his testiness. “What are you thinking?”

“How much more sensation do Nobodies have compared to the humans that spawn us?” He might have to kill the redhead.

“On a scale of one to five? Humans start at one, and go to two if they’re excited. If the guy still has a working dick, it’s between two and three--three if he ain’t cut. Nobodies start at two, and double up to four . . .” Oh shit, he figured it out! He was gonna die without ever having sexed him up! Where was the justice in creation?!?!?

“So my . . . gear is sitting at around a six out of five for sensation. . . .” Which meant everything--everything--was going to register, and it was either going to be mind-blowing enough to set him off early, or painful enough to make him cry ichor [14]. His cruel sky gaze locked onto whimpering emeralds. He pouted.

The other pleaded.

Roxas handed over the pouch. “Put it on me. Gently. Or you won’t like where my keys end up next,” and he leaned back for the elder to do his work.

Gasp! Shock! Awe! He wasn’t going to outright kill him! “Give me your hands--don’t argue, you need to know how to do this yourself too. For when you wanna keep your sheets clean, ya know? . . . O.k., feel it right there, . . . that’s where the tech punches holes into it so it rips without a fight. . . . Just a little pressure--not too fast! You can damage it if you’re hasty . . . there, no worries, right? O.k. . . . O.k. . . . I’m so dead.” Supersensitive Roxas, shit. Um . . . shit, watchful supersensitive Roxas. FUCK!!!! LUBE!!!! O.k., breathing, yeah, he could breath. . .

Right?

Maybe . . .

Damn it! He’d just go slow and pray! Pick up the bottle, lightly coat Roxas. Simple.

‘O.k., little pressure, tiny pressure, no too much--’

“Ah!”

‘Just him gasping, not gonna kill me. . . Yet.’

“Nna! . . . mmmm,” damn, that was a lot of white. “Mmm-mmayb-be I sh-hould do thiiis.” Not that he had a great idea of what to do.

“No. . . . It’s a bitch if you’re trying to hold off. And it’s not just about not using too tight or too loose a grip. Just, oh man, I’ll try to be fast,” he stoppered the bottle and tossed it back to the side.

“Fine.” He was panting from exhaustion already.

Axel still had his gloves on. Axel needed his gloves or he would burn Roxas. But gloves tended to feel better than skin on skin . . . shit. Had to make this very fast, or the kid would erupt. But too fast, and he risked yanking the tiger's tail, which would have been instant death for him. Gulping down his fear, Number VIII reached out to give ‘The Key of Destiny’ his first ever hand-job.

“Ha-AHH!” Whoawhoawhoawhoawhoawhoawhoa! Whoa! That--Whoa! Just . . . ‘Brain go off now.’

Roxas was now a puddle against the pillows. At least he wasn’t a white puddle, that would have made the pryomancer cry. But Roxas was apparently very satisfied with his nimble fingers. And when he had to stop, to place the contraceptive over his love, it wasn’t the red one whining.

“Axxxeeeeeeelllll! Why’d ya stop?!” He was pouting and excited, and--

“Heheeeheheeheee, you are so horny right now, it’s pathetic.” Soon, sooooooooonn . . .

“Horny?”

“Turned on.”

“Oh . . . but . . . horny? Animal . . . horns?”

“Maybe, don’t know. ‘Prolly bull horns. But ya know, big virile horned animals, big virile horny men.” ‘Keeping Roxas distracted, check!’ Just another few centimeters . . . maybe an inch . . .

Green eyes to love him, and green eyes to hold him . . . and they would hold him . . . if he wanted to be held.

“All done . . . up front anyways. Now,” the bony male shifted on the bed, “this is were things get interesting.”

“Interesting?” As long as he didn’t have to pick himself up off the pillows, he couldn’t care less what was done to him.

“Gotta prep yer back end.” Where did that bottle get to?

“Fun. Can I sleep?” Everything was so warm and soft . . .

Axel was horror struck. “No!”

“Okay, okay, jeez. I’m juss sleepy . . . ish . . el . . . WHOA!” He probably should have kept his eyes on long fingers. Now they were tracing the edge of his most vulnerable area.

“Shuush, shuush, it’s O.k., I’m just smoothing the stuff into the skin around there. No going in yet, just gettin’ ya used to the idea,” his slicked gloves--slicked fingers--always got a rise out of his partners.

“MMmmmm,” Couldn’t talk, couldn’t say anything--

“It’s O.k., everything’s gonna be fine,” he was slow and methodical, circling the puckered opening, “You just have to relax, remember? Stay tense and it’ll hurt more.”

“Oh my gooooodd,” he was going to listen to him, he was really going to put himself in the maniac’s hands. Deep breaths, deep breaths and let go of his body.

Now or never . . . Axel eased his index finger into velvet heat.

“MM!” Different, very different.

The redhead paused. Waited. Only when the un-child gave consent did he slide in to the second knuckle. Slower still, but a little deeper. He stopped, waited again. Then he drew his finger back, slow. When only the pad of his finger was inside did he stop again, went back in. This was what it was going to be like for the kid, in and out and in again. His jungle eyes trailed up, ghosted over creamy features dusted with rouge.

Rox was ‘happy’, panting. His eyes were open, tongue peaking out over his bottom lip. His eyes were trained down, to where Axel disappeared inside him. Ooo, freaky thought, but it was true. This was, like, ‘what the hell?’ he just . . .

His words were failing him.

The flame lord took a chance, added in a second finger. His partner gasped, breathily.

This was even more different than before! Wait, ‘male tab A’ . . . prep . . . prelude . . . oh. This was supposed to synthesize the sensation of Axel’s phallus penetrating and withdrawing from his anus. Got it. But . . . Axel looked . . . wider, and hell longer, than his fingers. So this practice run was just a sample, the real deal would feel even more different. Which . . . kind of made him feel giddy. One finger was sort of like, ‘Oh, there’s something in there. Dum-de-dum-de-duuuum,’ and two was like, ‘Hell-O! There is something IN there!,’ and Axel had to be. . . . Ya know he was waaaaay more than three fingers, so this whole stretching thing had better start happening soon, or he was likely to bleed out from having something longer than a bread box jammed up his ass.

Little kisses, tender, sweet. All to make the blond focus on his lips. He’d moved fast, so Rox wouldn’t suspect that he was about to open his fingers. He felt the other jerk around him, even yelp into his larger mouth.

Blue eyes were wide and staring. His hands were buried in pillows, fingers clawing and digging into innocent fluff. That couldn’t have been real. But then Axel did it again, made a ‘V’ sign with his fingers. He wasn’t as slow, but he was still careful, gentle. Those long fingers brushed at his inner walls, stroking, testing their resilience? Maybe--

Axel bared his teeth in a feral smile, watching as the lights behind Roxas’ eyes all turned on at once. ‘Found it.’ The little Nobody had arched off his mound of pillows, cock giving none too subtle a jump from the impact. But the fiery male found it amusing that his blond treat had remained silent during the experience. Couldn’t have that, could he?

“You li~iiike~d?” He would not be . . . completely evil.

“MMenf! Da hell ya push!?” That . . . that was a ‘brain off’ button if ever he found one. Now that he had his body back under control, he began easing himself down into a reclining position.

“G spot.” And he did it again.

“FUCK!!”

“We’re getting there.”

“Not. What. I. Meant. . . . What’z the real name of whatever you hit?” That was . . . fuck, too tired to categorize it.

“Goody zone?”

“Aaaaxxxx . . .”

“ . . . Prostate, nerve-endings, nerve-bundles.”

“Erogenous site. Say it.”

“Say pecker.”

“What’s that got to do with anything?”

“What’s a dead language got to do with anything either?” He tapped it again.

Roxas shivered, goose bumps raising over the entirety of his body. “’Snot dead!”

“Says Mr. Computer mouth. Remember: My world liked words for their sounds, not their meaning. I don’t care if I have to drag you into a three-way with Demyx, but I will get that into your blond head. Now if I say it’s your ‘Goody spot’, then it’s your ‘Goody Spot’. Case closed,” now to just wiggle a third finger into there . . .

“EVIL MOTHER-FUCKIN--” Screw the pillows, he caught Number VIII in a death grip. A hand to each shoulder, and he had--he had--to arch his back. It was the only logical choice his body had, but if he bent any more his spine would break.

The kid’s hands were like two iorn clamps. That was a small price to pay though, and Rox would be thanking him later. Maybe multiple times . . . Gggrrrrrr, he couldn’t think like that just yet.

“You’re ready.” Because he sure as hell was.

“Nuh?” Was Axel saying something?

He withdrew himself. “You’re ready. Any more, and I’ll probably set you off,” he would show self-restraint. He would show self-control. He would not mindlessly mount and hump Roxas until he’d loved himself all over the teen. . . . He would have to remember that for another fantasy for another day. . . Maybe with a pink and white maid outfit that time. . . .

“Axxeeelll . . . what do I do now?”

A sharp nip to his ear. “Not kill me.”

“Oh gods, what are you gonna do to me now?” His hands rested over the tall one’s neck, and he was straddling the other’s hips. Damn, didn’t even notice that he’d moved onto his lap.

“I wanna look into your eyes when we do this, but it’s your first time. . . . And, for your sake, it’ll be easier if I come in from behind instead of up and under,” he licked up his nose in apology, “I really want to see your face when I’m in there . . .” but his base programming wouldn’t let him intentionally hurt his mate.

“MMmm . . . next time?”

Did he just--was that really, “Did you just agree to doing this all over again? Later? Like, days, weeks, months, years from now?”

“Well, yeah. I mean . . . how often would you want to have sex with me?”

He couldn’t have asked for a bigger fucking neon sign to say, “Straight-line here”.

“Every fuckin’ day of my eternity,” and he devoured the blond from the lips down.

Well, he at least attempted to. Kind of still needed him alive and well if he wanted to screw his brains out. But he was getting ahead of himself. Not by much, but still. With a final flourish of his tongue he left the younger reeling, and started to slide him out of his lap. Once seated on the bed, the pair worked to maneuver Number XIII until he was on his hands and knees and facing away from the redhead.

This was it, the big moment, that instant he’d been hoping for. Just had to make sure he didn’t drool all over the boy. Heh, drooly Roxas . . . Could Nobodies suffer from ADD? Meh, he’d ask Xemmy later. Much, much, muuuuuuuch later. When he wouldn’t incur his boundless wrath for ‘despoiling his innocent subject’ later . . . unless he could convince him that this might help the experiment . . . O.k., holding that thought for later too.

Axel settled himself into the same position as Roxas, still managing to tower over the Key-holder. With his right hand, he guided his head until it butted against pert cheeks. The feeling must have unsettled the kid, because sapphires that burned with worry were soon gazing up and over a shoulder at him. He made soothing sounds, meant to comfort, confirm that he knew about his apprehension, but that it was unfounded. He nuzzled spun amber, lapped at an ear, nibbled lightly at the lobe. His teeth scraped over exposed skin, hovered over the knobs of a small spine, over the one ‘disk’ that joined neck to shoulders--neck to body. Under normal circumstances his lovers would have some ‘scruff’ that he could safely bite down on, and as a Human-like creature, Roxas was sadly lacking in that department . . . Which meant he was gonna have one hell of a hickey after this.

He nipped at the bump, licked and nipped it again. Grrrr . . . had to focus . . . his beta had skin, not hide.

Roxas was just breathing. He had put himself in the other’s hands. Everything was up to Axel’s knowledge of the worlds. Two fingers worked to spread and hold him wide, and then there was sweet pressure at that tender spot. Right, he was supposed to relax now, or things would get messy. Of course it didn’t help that he had no idea what to do past that. Axel was just there, behind him, licking the base of his neck, ready to push in at any time. He didn’t have any inclination of when the redhead would get things started, and Ax wasn’t giving him any hints.

Unless that’s what he wanted, to keep him from thinking about anything other than his breathing. Because pulling a band-aid off hurt if you went slow compared to just ripping it off in one fluid motion. And a person only went slow because they knew how much it was going to hurt, so they actually hurt themselves more by trying to avoid the pain. So did Axel just want him to think himself in circles so he wouldn’t have enough brainpower left over to worry about being impaled? Made sense, if he dropped his guard then he wouldn’t know when to react because he’d be too busy chasing his own thoughts.

Axel rolled his hips forward in a shallow jab, scrapping his front teeth against the knot of bone.

“Ah!” Tense! No, no, no. No freaking out. Shit, “ow!” Different. Okay, “okay,” okay okay okay. Sliding, odd, he could deal. Maybe? “Oh fucking god,” he was way bigger than three fingers. Huh, stopping what? Growling? Why was Ax growling?

“RRrrroooooxxas,” more licks to sad flesh, “’Mmm sorrry,” nibbling at the spine, “Yuu hurt?” Tender nuzzles, he was all about the tenderness and nuzzling.

“S-surprised. Really, really, surprised. Uh . . . could you . . . m~move? Please?” This wasn’t painful, just . . .

He needed more words.

A deeper growl, one to make the roots of mountains quiver. But his mate had asked, and so he eased himself forward, to the appreciative groaning of said blond. Couldn’t thrust, not fast, not too deep, not yet. Stretch the body, get it used to the intrusion. When he was half in, he stopped, waited, let things settle. He continued to nip and lap at the back of thin shoulders, showering the small one with love and devotion. Had to be careful, couldn’t do too much too soon, or he’d hurt him in a bad way.

Roxas whimpered.

“Are you--!”

“I’m fine. This is just . . . new. . . . To me,” damn, the flaxen boy could feel the tremor of worry that broke over his friend. It was so strong . . .

“Fine fine. Fine fine,” nuzzly-lick. He moved his right hand from where it was to find purchase on a smooth hip. Steadying himself he drew out until only the head remained embedded.

Roxas was all shivery mumbles beneath him.

In one smooth motion Axel plunged himself in up to the hilt. Another pause, more tender licks, more questing nips.

And apparently happy growls.

“You sound like a wolf . . .”

“Pff. Guess you could say I’m big ‘n’ bad. Sure’d be nice to gobble you up,” Hey! That reminded him, “And this is how we stuff a Roxas! With added sauce even.”

“ . . . I’m gonna find out that about seventy-five percent of all the jokes you make that I don’t get deal with sex, aren’t I?” He didn’t know if he should feel annoyed or bemused.

“Didn’t think it waz that low . . . maybe ninety-nine, ninety-eight?” Wait, were they arguing during sex?!

“Joy. . . Um, you stopped?” It was okay, but movement felt better.

“Heh, need to keep from hurting you.”

“I’m not a glass princess.”

“Yeah, but you could be my prince.”

“Is your fucking me gonna flay my skin and meat from my bones?”

“Yech, I hope not.” That hadn’t happened in his last life . . . unintentionally anyway.

“Then stop babying me.” He learned by doing.

“Uh . . . only if you swear not to kill me later?”

“I swear, really. Move now? Please?”

“O.k., my little Roxas-bunny,” and he pulled all the way out before sliding back in.

“Whoa!” He lashed out with his hands and clutched at the black iron bars that made up the headboard. Damn, he wasn’t exactly expecting--

Axel moved again, repeating the motion. He pulled out, then slid in, pulled out and slid in, all while Roxas held on for dear life.

The flame-thrower had wrapped both arms around his little waist. He let his hips do all the work, driving him in and out of rich heat. Smooth, sensual . . .

“AXEL!” ‘Oh my god, oh my god, ohmygodohmygodohmygodZOMFGWTF?!’ “Axxxeeeeeelll!” He was far too hot and far too aware and far too everything for this moment to be real.

His mate was squealing . . . instinct drove him to bite down and hold her in place, but there was no place for him to bite down on safely which left him with nothing to do but worry his lower lip.

Axel was keening in the back of his throat, and started to move faster, which wasn’t a bad thing but the blond was starting to overload on the moment.

A hand stole down to his boyhood, and he was singing out for the worlds to hear him.

Damn it all, these things were made for cut men, not kids like Roxas. He could make do, but he’d have to be mindful tomorrow when shopping. Still . . . this joy was worth the inconvenience.

“Aaaxxeeellll . . .,” couldn’t see straight. Wet face? Tears? Why? But it didn’t hurt! It was just, “AXEL!” Prostate. Shit. Breathing. The fuck. Was he--? “AAAAAAAAHHHHHHAAAANNNNAAAAHH!”

His mouth was filled with ash and tang.

Oh gods, Axel was fucking aiming for it!

‘Can’t bite him, can’t bite him, can’t bite him, can’t bite him, can’t bite him, can’t bite him,’ and on into infinity the mantra played behind verdant eyes as he continued to worry his open lip.

“AH!” His body closed tight, shaking.

“Rrrrrrrrroooooxxasssss!” Heat and insanity, and the blond was fucking his, no one else’s, unless they were willing to battle for him, and fat chance of them living, Xemnas or not, because he couldn’t fucking do jack shit to him anyway, so he should have just been grateful he’d never felt the need to bring the HQ crashing down around their ears before, because he’d do it, he’d fucking do it, he’d fucking done more for less!

“AAH!” Hard and tight and he was squeezing with muscles he didn’t know he had.

His mate, and his love, and he’d be damned further still before he’d let that narcissistic fatalistic bastard have his way.

“OOOWW!” He Bit Him!

--HisRoxasHisRoxasHisRoxasHisRoxasHisRoxasHisRoxasHisRoxasHisRoxasHisRoxasHisRoxasHisRoxasHisRoxasHisRoxasHisRoxasHisRoxasHisRoxas HisRoxasHisRoxasHisRoxasHisRoxasHisRoxasHisRoxasHisRoxasHisRoxasHisRoxasHisRoxasHisRoxasHisRoxasHisRoxasHisRoxasHisRoxasHisRoxas HisRoxasHisRoxasHisRoxasHisRoxas--

Roxas arched high, back bending like a bow to spoon tight to the front of the elder male. Inside his muscles clutched and gripped and milked the weeping length that burned him from within. Everywhere his bare back touched the other was a river of heat. He was filled and domed over by a living flame. Number VIII had him cradled in a den of lava and molten force. This was too much, far too much for one of his limited knowledge of the worlds.

He broke with a mind-bending wail, spilling data into a synthetic cylinder. Within him, Axel’s sex trembled before sputtering forth his own load.

::RrrrrrrraaaaaaaaaOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOoooooooowwwwwwwww::

Fucking . . . wolf.

Roxas’ hands slipped down the bars, his breathing erratic and shaky. But damn if that hadn’t been something he’d want to try again later. . . Much, much later.

That had been nice. But now Axel had to clean up their messes while he still had his wits. Taking hold at the base of the blond’s condom he slid the cover down the small shaft. When it was almost off, he gave the boy a shake to knock off any excess that might have collected at the tip. Luckily, the wastebasket had been conveniently placed by the head of the bed, next to the night-stand. The kid was a more or less boneless mass in his arms, and he had no energy to protest what was being done to him. Made it pretty tempting to go for a round two. But no, that could wait for now--at least for now.

So with tender care he lowered the little light-child onto the bed and off of his body. Then, as he’d done with Roxas, he gripped the base of his latex covering and detached it from himself. It too found a new home in the waste bin.

“MMMmmmm,” he was . . . content.

“Yeeaahhh . . . it gets better,” but he really needed to finish cleaning them up.

“Really?” His voice was soft, not weak, just ragged.

“Yep-yep. Hang tight. Gotta get a rag to get the juice off.”

“Merf?”

“Remember the warming lube? You still have some on your ass . . . and in your ass . . . and then there’s the cum . . . meh, love’s messy,” the bed shifted as he stood, cracked his back, worked the kinks out of his joints, before padding off to the bathroom.

‘Warming gel . . . riiiiiiiiiiiiiiiight. What’d that do? Like experience-wise, cause . . . oh, not talking am I?’ Yeah, mind, mush, same difference.

Something wet and warm was prodding his behind.

“Merf.”

“Wash-rag. To clean up. Don’t worry you’ll be able to sleep soon.”

He could deal with that. Soon the cloth was removed from his backside. But then long fingers slithered under his tummy and lifted him slightly off the bed. Before he could properly protest, he found the wetness surrounding his primary genitalia, then just as quickly gone. Before he could comprehend it he was back on the bed, nesting in soft covers. He blinked up and looked to where he suspected his companion to be, but found dead air instead. Axel was leaning over to pitch whatever into the bathroom, and then he was settling himself into the bed behind him. Maybe beside him if he turned--

Axel wrapped his arms around the small frame and positioned him to his liking. And that meant they were in a tight spoon with the kid’s back to his front. He sighed contentedly, and pulled the top quilt over their intertwined forms. Then he snapped his fingers, sheltering them in darkness, smiling that he’d guessed right about the lights being sound activated. (O.k., so maybe it helped that when he’d crashed the newlyweds’ party the first thing they did was clap the lights back on. . . . Kinda sorta.)

“So . . . that was sex,” it was . . . nice.

“Mmmhmm. That it was,” visions of ‘lolita’ Roxases danced in his head.

“Male tab Axel into any female slot V.”

“Figure that out, did we?”

“I know what a vagina is . . . just didn’t know what it was used for.”

“Damn.” He hugged him tighter, “Let me know if you’re sore tomorrow.”

“Sore?”

“It’s bound to happen the first few times. Even going easy on you can’t fix everything.”

“Then what did this fix?”

“Me ripping your colon open from the inside and possibly other horrible medical stuff.”

“Eeewww.”

“Yep-yep.”

“So how does it work with two girls?”

“Ah, a noble question, asked by men worlds over. Some have even dedicated their lives to the pursuit of this answer and it’s documentation via underaged exploitative films.”

“ . . . They weren’t asking for the same reason as me.”

“On the surface? Hells no. Some guys--yes, me too, don’t bother asking why--find it hot. Specially with desert toppings. You can’t go wrong with a kiddy pool of butterscotch.”

His brain hurt. “I do not want to even entertain that mental image, let alone the thoughts preceding it.”

Wide grin. “Ah, then remind me not to let you look through my movie collection back home.”

Roxas frowned. “Too much info.”

“You’re my sexy-bunny now. I get to babble about these things with you,” it came with the territory.

“Sexy-bunny?” That was way too cuddly for him.

“You don’t want to be a bunny?” But he was so soft and tasty . . .

“I’m not a pushover,” even if he wanted to drop into a deathlike stupor for the next week.

“Well if you can think of something better, then lets hear it,” ha! Couldn’t win if he couldn’t think.

Roxas opened his eyes, finding that he was turned to gaze at what would have been an open window (had the blinds and such not been drawn). An open window looking out onto an unsuspecting world that they were going to have overrun by this time tomorrow, taking the hearts of the mortals and binding them together to build Kingdom Hearts, the last hope for those poor wretches cast aside by both darkness and light, treading down a path of twisting shades. There would be stars out now, each point of light representing a different world they had yet to touch with darkness, burning bright against the backdrop of the universe. Each point was as big--if not bigger--than the world they were staying on now, but as far as the people here where concerned they might as well have been . . .

“Lightning-bugs . . .”

“What’s that?” Axel had almost drifted off.

“Lightning-bug. It’s another name for a firefly, right?”

“Mmmm.”

“So I could be your lightning-bug.”

“ . . . Thor throws lightning. Larxene threw it too, but she’s dead. You wield light,” he really needed to sleep, but this was insanely important.

“Fine, I’ll be a ‘lightening-bug’. Then I can make your world brighter,” it was only fair . . .

“Heh, you already have short-stuff. Many times over,” he nipped the back of his left ear--they were both on their right sides facing the wall, so it was the only ear he could reach. The blond twisted in his arms, and soon he found plush lips pressed to his own.

“Good night Ax,” and he shifted himself back into place.

“G’nite Rox,” and they couldn’t have been happier. [15]

---------------
[1] Can’t quite call it ‘love of his life’.

[2] My phonetic version of what ‘Carmen’ of ‘South Park’ says during that whacked out epp where he’s dressed as a cop. Where did that come from originally?

[3] Basically, where we would say ‘Earth’--our world name--Ax says Solaris. It was the first thing that came to mind, I have no proof of what his true origins are. Yes, if his original home world is revealed I’ll edit this . . . unless I should just have him say ‘Twilight Town’ as that’s the world all Nobodies are reborn into? Bah, but I didn’t want to confuse everyone . . .

[4] Yeah, because everyone has different personalities and talks differently, I spell the same slang like 80 million different ways. Cheerful, happy, silly people--like Disney folk and Demyx--say ‘Okie’. Those who use proper English more than slang--if they even use slang--say ‘Okay’. And then people like Axel--brash, fast, and no regard for etiquette--say ‘O.K.’

[5] Long ago and far away, there’s this novel I read that I think was called ‘The Black Unicorn’, or ‘The Last Black Unicorn’ or something to that effect. Anyway . . . main character’s a girl who lives in a castle in the middle of a desert, with a nasty mother/stepmother. I know she ends up finding like the skeletal remains of a Unicorn or something with the help of her little dog. Anyway . . . she ends up meeting a real Black Unicorn, and it pulls her into it’s world for a short amount of time. While she’s there, she loses the capacity/ability to feel emotions. Because of this, she ends up feeling utterly confused at several different points, because she’s not sure how she should feel in the different situations--like the Unicorn rearing up too close to her, where it could easily trample her; should she be afraid for her life or awed at it’s beauty? To make things worse, the Unicorn is trying to communicate something to her, and the message is almost utterly lost on her because she feels nothing. I’m playing on that with Roxas. I’m going with the theory that because his heart is alive and working, he ‘remembers’ how to feel subconsciously without knowing it. So, because he doesn’t have emotions at the moment, he’s going nuts because he doesn’t know how to react. And it doesn’t help that he doesn’t have knowledge about the ‘adult’ world.

[6] Don’t ask me how Axel and Demyx ended up as Vikings/worshiping the Norse Gods; it made sense to me at the time. Midgard . . . Earth had to be called Midgard in Nordic mythology . . . Goddamnit they ain’t from FF7-World!! ::Twitch::

[7] Yay Wikipedia! They say that his Japanese title was "‘Demon Man Dancing in the Moon’ Saïx", and ‘The Luna Diviner’ sort of makes him sound like a seer or psychic. Now I don’t know about you guys, but Saïx never struck me as having psychic powers, just psychotic powers. And he does look like a demon-puppy a.k.a. werewolf . . . sort of . . . ::Giggles.:: 7th note is about Saïx. XD

[8] You say ‘roast beef’, D&D (and like RPG) players say ‘roast beast’.

[9] “Who?! Huh?! What?!”

[10] Yay [http://dictionary.reference.com/]!

[11] Yay “Godchecker”, specifically [http://www.godchecker.com/pantheon/norse-mythology.php?_gods-list]. Not saying it’s the most accurate, just saying it’s a resource.

[12] Let me know if I should go back and do research, but I think lube goes on the in--and out--side of a condom, right? And later, I think that’s how guys are supposed to put them on . . . WhOOttt for me still being a virgin and not knowing this shit! ^_______^

[13] If anyone has read Lewis Carroll’s “Through the Looking-Glass”, this is going to make sense soon enough. It’s actually kind of scary that this is what the 13th note is about, considering what I have planned for Roxas . . .

[14] Because Nobodies don’t bleed--and thus can’t cry--blood. And yes, I’m intentionally playing on the duel meaning. XD Though it my defense, demons and like creatures with ‘black blood’ are said to bleed ichor . . .

[15] Unless, of course, they could have found real hearts to go with the metaphysical ones they have just found/made. But that’s another story, for season two.

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”