Happy Gin & Sin Day(2-28). I am an archy fangirl forever. Even though I know having people go 'Happy Gin & Sin Day!' will annoy the hell out of you.


Axel played with Marluxia's hair while the brunet asked him questions, whispering. The two laughed at something for a moment, before Marluxia gave Roxas a not-so-subtle glance. "So, you're not a boyfriend?"

Roxas frowned. He swayed on his feet, carefully…controlled…swaying. He shook his head and Axel's eyes hissed at him from beneath a snarl of hair. He wound his arms around the flower stalk of Marluxia's neck, jostling tight chains of command.

The fetid scents of filth and sex and drugs, mired deep in the ooze of alcohol through the veins and breath of all those present blew in rapidly. Off the breeze of movement as Zexion came forward to pull him away and Roxas stumbled forward on a petulant whim and Axel's eyes screamed.

Axel plucked restlessly at Marluxia's hair in the simpering semblance of coy, tonguing further excuses into the man's ear, writhing his wraithlike body for the worth it did him.

"He isn't," Axel insisted warmly one-more-time, insisting the boy was following him around; a goody-two-shoes, his newest lollipop to be used until he didn't taste like cherry anymore.

Marluxia's laughter rumbled up out of the pit of his stomach as he tossed the redhead aside to stand and help Roxas stay his feet, leaving Axel to rise from soiled kitchen tiles on his own.

"That's good to know," Marluxia murmured. Roxas thought his voice was like juniper bushes, strong but lingering somewhere between the sharp tang of gin and the sweetness of a berry and…

"I'm not a faggot like…like…" his mouth felt slack under the movements of his tongue. He stumbled off the words while looking desperately for something to cling to, for something to keep him upright…

"Axel," the brunet supplied affectionately, slinging chain heavy arms around the boy's shoulders and leading him to a place where he could sit and relax, a place where Marluxia could kick Axel back to the floor with a briar sharp smile.

"He isn't," Axel cried again, his body shaking with cocaine jitters and only the green bruises hidden on the insides of his thighs able to express his revulsion.

And Marluxia's bright clean smile and fresh bright eyes shined out of the murk and muck while he set pretty little Roxas on his kitchen chair throne. Kicking out the backs of his knees and sending him tumbling face first, chest over back, to the chair and Axel wouldn't cry out again.

Zexion made a little noise, a little noise like he didn't want to care and Marluxia didn't look at him, letting the stoop of his shoulders speak for him until the boy-child-drunken-blond was trapped in the chair, rocking it dangerously, unable to topple and come free because Marluxia's long legs and stronger arms held it perfectly wonderfully entrapped. Front to back he pressed, cupping the boy's hips in hands used to caressing and hurting and destroying the names and faces of those he'd never known and never would.

Axel had had it up to the gills and he rolled over, too afraid and put in his place to even get off the floor. He rolled over, burying his face in the tiles while Roxas twisted and turned to escape and found nothing but Marluxia's excitement at his struggle and…

"Lexaeus."

"Yeah?"

"I want him on the table," Marluxia whisper-purred.

Zexion made the little sound again, scramble-stumbling forward to clear a triple baggied rose-scented sprig of weed and a half eaten trail of acid paper from the brown faux-marble tabletop. He made the sound one more little time when Lexaeus took Roxas' arms, unable to lift him at first until Marluxia stopped thrusting against his jeans.

Music from the other room made Axel's tired trills of, "He isn't." absolutely euphonious and poetic and Marluxia simper-purred and dragged nails across Roxas' straining lovely neck of aching-hot-white-heat-poison-veins.

"He isn't," Marluxia agreed. Marluxia agreed while yanking away one of Roxas' shoes and shimmying down one leg of pants and boxers. Marluxia agreed. Marluxia agreed while dropping an elbow into Roxas' gut, getting green bile still scented like alcohol as his return favor, but Roxas had kicked him. Make you sick…makes you ill. Axel grabbed on at his ankle to get kicked too and who wants to disappoint?

"No, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no," Roxas' font size trailed off to nothing more than simple slurs, with Axel augmenting every tinny little sigh-whine-protest with one more,

"He isn't."

Marluxia snicker-moaned. "Aren't you such a catch," the brunet-threat sighed, unzipping his pants with jaunty motions as he moved his body happily, playfully to the music. A-a snap-cock of his hip, a roll, a roll in his shoulders, biting excitedly at his lower lip, letting…letting supposed fake aching music lust seem to take over his face as his eyes closed and his hips danced under him a little more. "What a prize."

He sighed-and-lovely as he nudged Roxas' legs apart, the boy still choking on alcoholic haze-dream and vomit and struggling against Lexaeus' hard-hard hands.

Zexion made that cola sweet noise one more dying time and Axel lay quiet upon the blood-cum-beer-coke drenched-soaked-caked floor.

"I," Marluxia murmured hot and heavy, dragging over a chair by his toes to prop one leg up on it and really get his cock hard pain deep no slide stretch stick burn deep in Roxas' innocent screaming pink hole. "am so glad you aren't Axel's boyfriend. You should be glad too." One more sigh. One more affectionate sneer as he looked down into Roxas' honest eyes crying out pain. Ain't it just a bitch? "I'd have a lot more fun if you were."

Roxas let out a sobbing drunken scream, thrashing against Lexaeus' hold and railing against Zexion's resigned little chirrups. While there was still Marluxia, pretty frightening strong perfect supplying habit feeding horrifying, Marluxia. "What a…" thrust, rape, ravage, thrust, thrust, rape. "What a drag. What a chore." He glanced down at Axel, wished the boy impaled so tight and lovely on his cock were sober enough to follow his gaze to the cheap source of blame. "It's always someone else's fault. A crying shame. Nnn, get over it."

He slid off the words, sneering nasty copper raging wet like cum, like the drip drip drip out of Roxas' stretched straining hole. He bent forward and kissed blondie's mouth, soft and chaste. Roxas, Roxas wanted to spit.

"We oughtta buy you a Cadillac." Marluxia looked at Axel, caught pretty-boyslut's eyes and kicked him one more sensual, 'i love you' time. "Good thing he isn't."


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