There is a bit of smex later in this chapter. Ooh la la. Well, not exactly sex sex but you'll get what I mean.

Normal disclaimers apply! (Although I'd like to see someone who actually claims they own Kingdom Hearts. Never going to happen, I think.)

Aw, yay! The break thing works again!

For the players of DDR, it is known that magical things happen when you are engaged in a song. Sora was newly experiencing this, gaining his addiction, whereas Riku had been desiring his fix for nearly a year and a half now. The feeling, as with anything else, was one of utmost accomplishment. This has already been discussed.

But there is just something about it. Like listening to someone hit every note perfectly in a song, Dance Dance Revolution can go so perfectly it makes one sigh in content. Each arrow is hit flawlessly, the brain flickering faster than the eyes and feet can follow, sometimes moving your body like a puppet in order to hit each step. Play the game long enough, and one finds they don't have to think about what they're doing. They just do it. The only challenge is keeping your lungs and muscles in one piece.

People have natural functions, such as breathing and blinking and heart rate. These are basic things we do without thinking about. But if DDR hypnotizes the brain, the dance, the song, becomes the natural function, overriding breathing. Instead of simply breathing, one must think about breathing, force themselves to breathe.

Sora even had to force himself to blink.

He'd memorised every aspect of his game: the first thing to hurt would be his left leg and when that ended it was stomach cramps from lack of air, and finally, after more than an hour of nonstop playing, the nausea and foot pain would set in, making him feel like he was dancing on the very bones of his feet.

He loved it.

The click of the metal arrows, the cool post to lean against, and even the annoying announcer (who randomly screams "Noo!" even if the game is going well) made it worthwhile.

And if the songs weren't pumping up his adrenaline, the memories of what had happened on that machine would. There was that thought at the back of his head, whenever he touched the post. A mental picture of him and Riku, a picture with sound and feeling. It was a pleasurable spot of sugar for him which his mind begged him to return to if he happened to think about it in just the slightest way.

Where was Riku…?

"Show me your stuff!" cried Demyx with a wry, devilish grin. Axel leaned down into Roxas's ear and whispered the same thing to his young charge, who promptly elbowed him in the stomach and crossed to the other side of the machine, Sora's right, and watched his best friend with slightly smoldering but expecting eyes.

"If you learned anything you wouldn't need Riku," he said. "Just dance, Sora."

"I don't just need Riku for…" Sora faded out. He started the statement so quietly to begin with that by the time he finished it was only a whisper in his head.

"Look," said Demyx. Ca-ching, coins fell into the machine. "Pick your favourite songs, your best ones, and do them for us."

"My favourites, huh?" That sounded nice. His favourites. There were a few Heavy songs he had up his sleeve, but he'd really like to impress Riku with them. Ah, well.

Encouraging smiles highlighted the faces of the boys brought together as they watched one of their youngest nervously preparing for his song, having picked one.

"Are you ready?" asked the announcer.

"I sure hope so," Sora replied drearily.

This was the last week of summer. If he didn't have this nailed, he was doomed for another year beginning in obscurity. And summer, being at its end, was ripe to be picked and overenjoyed. All across the country citizens would be cramming as much as was humanly possible into this week. And even though he could still theoretically keep practising, Sora felt like this was the accumulation of it all and if he failed now he wouldn't have the will to keep going.

Axel and Riku long ago learned to beat this demon. To be truly good at games you must never give up until the game gets tiring. If the boss kills you, do it again. If he kills you again, do it again. Do it again and again until you win, because otherwise you'll waste time thinking that you should be playing but you are so put off by that stupid boss fight. That boss is pixels, the arrows are pixels, and it's all just relative. Someone in the world can pull off the hardest songs. You should never expect to beat him, but you have to try and be like him.

Was that really all he learned this summer? No. The summer wasn't over, and though the outside temperature was cooling, this odd relationship with Riku was the polar opposite, and there was still so very much to learn.

The beats of a song named .59 began to sound. It was the first song Sora learned to master on Heavy simply because it came first in the catalogue's alphabet, its first character being a decimal. The 'sandwich' steps, as Riku called them, steps where there would be, for example, a right step in between two up steps at rapid pace, came easily, and thus he darted about the four corners of the pad, sometimes missing the arrows through the fault of bad aim.

It went well. The DDR machine judges harshly compared to the home versions, and it gave him a C, which was fantastic for something on the machine.

Sora's friends burst into applause, and Demyx gave a loud catcall.

The other two songs went much the same (Ecstasy and B4U), though there was a part near the end of Ecstasy that he messed up on and got an E, but everyone, especially Demyx, knew that the grade wasn't directly reflective of the ability or how the song went.

When he was finished he spoke to Roxas about the party Riku had told him about while the blond listened intently. Riku had described is as a school dance only better, something the venue was calling a 'teen night'. And instead of playing popular (and generally sucky) tunes, they would play things you could dance to, techno instead of pop, trance instead of R&B. Sora wasn't so sure he'd be able to dance on a real dance floor, but Roxas and Axel seemed excited about the concept. In fact, Axel began swinging his hips and twirling his fingers in imitation glowsticking. The hand that was not engaged in this awful impression was extended to Roxas, who took it with a sincere giggle, much to everyone present's surprise.

While the two lovers danced around and attracted attention Sora splashed some water on his face, then ran his fingers through the water and into his hair. He was more than a little bummed out.

He just couldn't believe that Riku'd spent weeks teaching him only to bail out on the last day of training. Sora would be practising DDR anymore; he'd be playing it. It was doubtful that Riku would never be in his presence again while playing (just because the lessons stopped didn't mean they had to stop playing together), but it was the last day of the teacher and student relationship.

But suddenly, just as he was about to leave, a hand, slender and pale, reached from the bathroom and pulled him in. The sight that greeted this surprise was a head of glossy silver hair and glinting aqua eyes so obviously amused that they'd captured their prey, and this time the prey was too hot and tired to put up a fight.

"Riku…!" Slam, he made friends with the wall and even better friends with the pair of hips surging against his, bony but delicious.

"Do you know how sexy you are when you dance?" Riku murmured huskily. Sora mewled and responded to the playfully brutal statement and let out a near purr when Riku continued with, "It makes me want to do things to you."

Riku is very, very horny, thought Sora in a mix of giggles and fear. Airy cologne reached his nose—Riku's. Those commercials with the girls ganging up on good-smelling guys were not lying; however in this case it was not a gaggle of girls, it was Sora. And he was the one being ganged up on, if Riku could count as a gang.

His hands certainly did, traveling in a thousand places at once, over a skinny hip, dipping beneath his shirt for just a second. Adrenaline pumped through him knowing that anyone could walk in at any moment and see this, two boys heatedly making out against the tiles, the clearly dominant one sliding to the submissive brunet's back and turning him around, pressing them stomach to back. Sora felt Riku's growing hardness behind him and, in a rare show of Sora's sexuality, he ground back.

If playing a good game of DDR led to perilous bathroom sex, Sora would be playing it every single day until he died.

Riku's mind was a whirr but he ignored it, letting thoughts like wanted to do this for a long time and sweaty, delicious, cute float by his conscious and be replaced by not words but feelings, such as the coarse fabric of his blue-eyed companion's jean shorts and the pinpoint of cold metal, the button. Having Sora's back to him made it easy to slide the zipper down.

Beneath red plaid boxers lay the prize, the forbidden fruit cute kids like Sora weren't allowed to have—an erection, the embarrassing but sexy and unwanted gift sent by hormones. Riku's own erection was a sexy feeling; knowing Sora was also aroused made it better times one thousand million. I did this, he thought. I'm doing this to Sora.

Adorable, morally perfect, naïve. Riku had to have it.

Ah, there it was, the prize, virgin to other hands and reacting accordingly. Its owner, poor Sora, bit his plump lip back and hissed, cramming his eyes shut. Riku was stroking him as if he was stroking himself and it felt more like masturbation than relation, except so much more thrilling because his fingers weren't his own this time, they belonged to a gorgeous silver-haired boy who wanted him and…

Weeks of growing sexual tension and affection manifested themselves in the speed of Riku's generous hand. Sora paid that hand back as best he could by rubbing Riku's erection with his backside, grinding down when he was struck particularly.

There the feeling was, the feeling that was far off but would most definitely happen, the wonderful threat of orgasm.

And there it went in a horrible way—Riku released him just at that moment and threw himself to the wall adjacent to the sinks. Sora sunk back and faced him, eyes half-lidded but angry, begging.

"Finish it, Sora," Riku said, panting. Sora was writhing against the wall, wanting it so badly, and stupidly believing Riku was the only one who would get that done. But the older boy wanted to see him suffer, wanted the voyeur show of watching the cute boy come. "Do it, go there for me."

Desperately Sora took a hold of himself confidently, left wrist thrown to the wall by his face as Riku watched, stricken with lust.

Riku did not want to explain why he left Sora to do this himself. Part of him said not here, not in some grimy bathroom. If you're going to bring the kid to orgasm it had better be special. The hornier part of him said it was because it would be fun and torturous. Riku was secretly always a sadist.

The screams had to be bitten back but it was not hard. Sora crunched all the pleasure inside him as he came violently, knowing he could very well have zipped up his pants and left after Riku abandoned him, but at the time it didn't seem like a possibility.

He slumped against the wall, bathing in afterglow, until gentle fingers covered in toilet paper wiped his semen away and soft lips brought his into a kiss.

"Are you alright?" he asked the brunet in a hushed tone.

Sora then uttered a statement he meant right down to its curse word: "You are such a goddamn tease."

Eheheh, yeah. Sorry.

Review Replies!

Number VIII – Axel – You are the one who corrected me on 'brunette'. Actually, the word brunette applies to girls and the internet and otherwise boy version of it is brunet. Just like how I use blond for guys and blonde for girls. Microsoft Word doesn't seem to have a problem with it either. Yay loopholes:D

Sorry this chapter was kind of short. The next one will involve a lot of Xig/Dem, because it's about time something happens with those two.