Roxas needed those precious moments by himself, those moments where he was simply alone. They gave him time to think, to come to his own conclusions, and to order his life. Yes, he liked to categorize his life. He found himself going over events of previous days and associating feelings with them. Or what he assumed was the memory of feelings.
For Larxene’s outbursts, and her not-so-subtle hints about her sadism, he imagined that she inspired awkwardness, that strange mix between fear, disgust, and not knowing what the hell to say. He imagined that whenever she pulled out her copy of Marquis de Sade, his appropriate response would be to leave the room or to stand there, with a blank look on his face.
Marluxia inspired the feeling of absurd laughter, disbelief, and mocking. His attempts at showing off his power was always ruined by some sort of pun from Axel or Demyx about flowery justice. He would have to remember to laugh the next time either of them said anything about it.
Lexaeus was definitely fear. He only had to look at how the smaller animals cowered and fled from Larxene to remember the similarities between himself and Lexaeus. However, he wasn’t certain if it was really fear he felt or intimidation. He was quite sure that if Lexaeus ever decided to start swinging that hammer his way, his keyblades would be quick to put him in his place.
Demyx was purely laughter, happiness, he supposed. Roxas figured that his comments, while often not as cynical as the rest of them, were really designed to create laughter from an audience who no longer had the means to care. Perhaps that was how Demyx’s Other had been.
Annoyance was something he ascribed to Luxord. The man’s single-mindedness was clearly frustrating, even to him, with no heart. In fact, the Superior had told him once that it was the negative feelings that Nobodies were more likely to remember. He was probably right.
He didn’t know how to describe how he felt about Zexion. The man didn’t speak very often, and when he did, it was often pertinent and utterly dry of personality. Perhaps Zexion had always been that way.
Vexen, however, made him angry. His know-it-all tone often had him reaching for his keyblades, and Axel reaching for his chakrams. Roxas didn’t see him very often, though it never really bothered him.
Xaldin, like Lexaeus, inspired fear. There was no doubt in Roxas’s mind about this emotion, though. He knew that he was afraid of Xaldin, and he hoped he would never have to cross weapons with him.
Xigbar made him feel better about himself, because he could not imagine that the man was as intelligent as everyone around him claimed. Saïx made him angry.
The Superior, Xemnas, was unnerving, nervousness. Perhaps he even hated him. He couldn’t recall what about their few interactions that made him so sure of his judgment, but he knew that he didn’t want to be caught alone with Xemnas. He was grateful for his constant companion.
He walked away from the window, turning his back on the fabled, wanted, cherished Kingdom Hearts. As he pulled off the dark cloak from his nakedness, he wondered absently what feelings Axel really inspired. He tossed the cloak to the side and went to the water bowl that had been pushed to the side. The cool water splashed over his, surprisingly, warm face.
Axel was the epitome of envy. Roxas wished he could decipher the hints of feelings and play upon them like Axel did. He couldn’t tell if Axel really was a nobody, sometimes. He shivered and wiped the water from his face. But Axel wasn’t completely envy. Axel was fun, laughter, knee-slapping, side aching.
He sat on the bed with a dejected stare at the floor. What was Axel? Was he complicated? Because there were times Roxas could remember that he definitely didn’t like Axel. Axel was, at the very best, an asshole. He was a manipulator, pulling on the heart strings, or lack thereof, of everyone around him.
Was he being pulled along, he wondered as the redhead appeared before him. Roxas’s face colored, and Axel’s eyes gleamed, his eyebrows raised, and his mouth the in the shape of an ‘o’ that was slowly morphing into the most obvious of smirks. Roxas reached for his cloak furiously, demanding, “What?”
Axel sat next to him with a loud laugh. “Well, I was wondering what you were doing. So, you sleep in the nude? Very interesting!” Roxas glared at his rude jokes, knowing that that was what he should be doing then. He was getting good at pretending, he realized, because his cheeks were flaming.
“What does that have to do with what I’m doing?”
“Well, nothing, really. So, what are you doing? I was feeling bored.”
“I was thinking,” Roxas said dismissively as he edged away from Axel. “About the Organization.” Said in preemptory response to Axel’s next question.
“What about the organization?” Axel asked, moving closer to him as he attempted to peer through the cover of Roxas’s cloak.
“About how I feel about you people,” Roxas said angrily as he pushed Axel away and stood up. However, he felt himself yanked back into Axel’s arms and forced on his back on the bed. His blue eyes widened in panic at the green ones before him.
“And how do you feel about me, hmm?” Axel leaned over him and he felt very aware of his vulnerability and his nakedness.
“Axel, what are you doing?” he asked quickly, hushed. The silence hung between them as Axel edged closer and closer. “I don’t think--” he started to say but was stopped by Axel’s gloved finger resting lightly against his lips.
“I don’t know… How do you feel Roxas?”
“Like I don’t think you straddling me is a good idea. Get off!” he said and shoved Axel away and then propelled himself to where he was the one over Axel. He blinked his bright eyes furiously, quite sure that this hesitation was what they called innocence. Carnal desires had never seemed to cross his mind, but as Axel’s gloved hands rested against his bare hips, he shivered and closed his eyes.
Axel’s lips against his forced him out of his reverie. He pulled his mouth away from Axel’s, though the redhead was still close to him, fully cloaked and covered. As he still reeled from the firm brush of their lips, Axel pushed his weight against his, and he found himself once again at the mercy of the redhead over him.
“Axel,” Roxas said quietly before shouting, “You’re an asshole.”
Axel laughed, and his hand brushed the cheek next to the furious, stubborn, blue-eyed glare. Axel’s lips pressed against his in a more firm brushing and chills crawled up his spine. The moment Roxas gasped, Axel intruded his mouth with his tongue. He pulled his face away and Axel smirked before kissing and suckling on that one ticklish spot on his neck.
Roxas’s eyelids fluttered in momentary ecstasy before he regained his senses and pushed Axel off him. As the redhead teetered off balance, Roxas grabbed his cloak and pulled him back onto the bed roughly, there the positions switched again. Roxas didn’t know the game Axel was trying to play, except that they would play it by his rules.
He leaned down and kissed the red head, lips pressed firmly against his. Seduced by the fiery heat just from Axel’s mouth. He didn’t know how long he actually lay there, kissing him, except that he gasped in shock as he felt the hands rubbing against his thighs. He gripped Axel’s shoulders, and dug his fingernails in deep, causing him to cry out in momentary pain. His hands moved closer to Roxas’s cock, and Roxas noticed that he had slipped his gloves off. As the warm hands rubbed against him, Roxas stopped focusing long enough for Axel to push him up and against the nearest wall.
The younger boy gasped as Axel once again kissed him in strings, one kiss barely connecting to another, hands wandering from their place on his cock to all those spots that had been confided over the quiet sunsets of many afternoons. Roxas could barely stand on his own, and as he sank down the wall, Axel followed him. There was no escape from the throbbing, the shivering, the will to fight back.
Roxas, in a sudden burst of strength, grabbed the zipper of Axel’s cloak and yanked it down until he was able to push the cloak off of his upper body. Before he could get any farther, Axel snatched his hands and pinned them above his head. He twisted and turned, screaming into Axel’s mouth as he firmly kissed him again. To compensate for the lost use of his hands, Axel placed his body more firmly against Roxas and let his mouth wander down the boys neck, suckling on the edge of his collar bone.
The sheer warmth of Axel’s body was driving him absolutely insane, and he cried, pleaded, begged. He wanted to know the name of this game, and the teasing was killing him. As Axel’s hair brushed against his face and the warmth of his mouth against his nipples, Roxas cried out again, hurtling every insult he knew and some that he didn’t.
In a fit, he finally loosed Axel’s hands and grabbed the zipper of his dark cloak again. The damned thing was almost past his hips. Axel grabbed his burning cock. As he kissed the enraged Roxas, he stroked it gently, driving Roxas all the more wild, and with no useful outlet to control Axel’s movements. He clenched his fists and fell forward onto the redhead’s chest, burying his face into it, loud groans muted. Axel smirked and squeezed a little harder. He could feel Roxas’s teeth against his skin as Roxas tried to bite him. With his free hand, he lifted Roxas’s chin and kissed him.
Roxas threw himself into the kiss, as his hands found their way into Axel’s hair. On their way there, they stopped at his ears where Roxas rubbed them gently, much to Axel’s shock. His eyes widened and his grip tightened. Roxas’s gasp was silenced as Axel pushed his face back into the kiss. The prickles of sweat slowly sliding down Roxas’s thighs and chest, and the erratic breaths and Axel’s deliberate movements. Their tongues intertwined.
Roxas could feel the light brush of Axel’s fingertips, and the pulsating from his member. And the next thing he knew, he was on his back, Axel’s hand resting firmly against his abdomen. Roxas could see the full view, and knew that he had done well in getting the cloak off of Axel.
He was massaging something into his own hard cock with a smirk at Roxas. When he thought Roxas might possibly be forgetting just what power he had over him, he squeezed him and pressed his lips firmly against the smaller boy’s, catching his pained moans in his mouth.
Axel’s tongue aggressively caught the Roxas’s as he rubbed him harder, and Roxas pressed firmly against his shoulders, eventually drawing his nails down Axel’s chest. He could barely control his motions, and the red covering his face then was from the exertion it took not to draw blood with his nails.
Axel moved his legs apart with his knee and Roxas stopped panicking for a moment as he suddenly tried to shove Axel off him, but Axel couldn’t be budged this time. He pulled his mouth away to protest, but Axel ignored him and instead kissed his neck. His voice caught in his throat. Axel pressed against him and eventually entered.
He tensed and Axel gasped. As he moved further inside him, Roxas cried out from the initial pain and shock. He pushed at Axel’s chest, even as the pain began to vanish, replaced by that ecstatic feeling at the down stroke. Axel continued to massage him. He could feel his saliva dripping from his teeth and onto his parted lips.
He could barely control himself anymore and his juices could be felt between his thighs. Axel kissed him he pulled away, not letting anything muffle his ecstatic moan as he ejaculated. He panted and moved his hands to brace himself for Axel’s continued thrusts. When he tense, Axel would bite off his moans. Roxas could feel it when he finally released himself, every wet detail.
They looked at each other and panted, both red, wet with swat. The lust that Roxas hadn’t even realized he’d had had been satisfied, even as he wanted to smack that knowing smirk off of Axel’s face.
It was their secret, but Axel was terrible at keeping secrets. He liked to press Roxas close to him, to massage those sensitive spots on his neck, sides, and back. He came on so suddenly because he liked to see Roxas helpless for that one instant before he came to his senses and punched him.
He liked to remind Roxas that lust was one of the few feelings that Nobodies could still honestly and truly have. But Roxas felt it was something deeper. Had anyone else approached him in the same manner, he would have done more than punched them. He would have screamed, raged, attacked them, keyblades in hand, no mercy.
He knew others watched and whispered, but he didn’t care as long as they realized that the liberty was not theirs.