Haven't much to say, really. Axel/Sora because I can.
Disclaimer – I own nothing. Square and Disney own all.
Donald and Goofy, walking halls of white, diligently search for something half-lost and forgotten. They don't even know if they are looking for something or someone; they only know that they must find. Sora, young and confused, walks the muzzy paths of his memories, falling in holes and trying to patch rips with false remembrances.
They split ways after Sora, in a moment of rashness and stubbornness, refuses to let go of the girl whose name sits on the tip of his tongue but will not bear the fruit of an image. They want to find what they were sent to find. He wants the embrace of somebody he knows. Conflicting interests tear them apart.
And so Sora journeys on, walking and waiting, losing more memories, and Donald and Goofy traverse the same hallway again and again without even realizing it, intent on remembering what cannot be remembered.
The dark-coated figures watch from the shadows and smile. Divide and conquer is an old tactic, and a clichéd one at that, but it is effective and probably the best way to dispatch the Keyblade Master. There is a slight argument amongst them over who gets to deal the deathblow.
Blonde and pretty Larxene, sadistic and cruel, wants to see him crumple. Icy and strange Vexen wants him for experiments. Puzzling and confounding Marluxia does not want him dead, but taken barely alive for his own purposes. Soft and quiet Naminé wants nothing more to do with these non-people and says nothing, holding her sketchbook to her face, hiding tears of misery. She is the girl who planted the seeds of mutiny with her whisper of a name. Fiery and complex Axel also says nothing; he, however, works to his own agenda. It is wise not to trust him, but with his coy words and his handsome face, it is impossible not to.
He slips away from the bickering threesome and lonesome fourth, a black blemish in the pristine white, and slowly stalks the Keyblade Master, waiting for the inevitable emotional breakdown.
It takes longer than what Axel would have expected. Sora, while immature and naïve, is strong from things he should know nothing of. But his mind is fragile, and traveling through the past is always dangerous.
Mental footsteps have led him to a warm and cozy place, where the air smells of water and salt, and strange birds caw overhead. This place has a name, but it is gone for now, set to return later. Wooden planks fade in and out, thick and distorted in his mind, and then suddenly yellow fruit is in his hand. A star has fallen from the sky to land in his palms.
"They say that if two people share one, their destinies will become intertwines."
The voice is smooth and liquid and wonderfully masculine, and with it comes a face. Slivery purple hair shifts in the wind, and cool, bluish eyes regard him from a feminine-like face, a rather shocking contrast to the muscled body slipping into view.
"Riku." Spoken aloud, the name cuts through the fuzzy image and leaves behind cold, hard darkness, thin fingers of it reaching out and wrapping around Sora's body, winding around his ankles and snaking up his legs. All around his body the darkness coils until it reaches his throat, and then it is on his lips and in his mouth, and he can't breath, and now it's covering his eyes, and he knows he's going to die…
Sora heaves, falling to his knees, palms pressed flat against the marble floor, panting and gagging, sweat popping wetly on his body. Crouched on all fours, he rests there, head pressed against the stone wall, body hot and cold at the same time.
Another memory stirs unbidden, cloudy and misty and it's more of a half-remembered dream than anything else. Hands are on his hips, large hands, rough and calloused from manual work. He is naked, on hands and knees like he is now, only this time it's different. Panting and scared, he shivers, and a hard body presses reassuringly against his back.
"Don't worry, Sora. I'll show you. I'll make it good for you."
Purple hair dances just outside the corner of his vision.
Sora gasps, reeling back so that he falls to the floor with a thump. Heart pounding, his hand flutters nervously in front of him, worrying his necklace and running through his hair. Blood rushes to his face, and darkened with his blush, Sora picks himself up and moves on, head held high and proud, red as his shorts.
Axel watches in surprise and wonders what that was about.
Sora hasn't got but ten paces when hormones catch up to him, and he finds himself seeking out that dreamy memory. Shocked, he stops, shakes his head firmly, and ventures forth, denying his body carnal knowledge. Still though, those hands on his hips, that body against his, the promises he knows are true, they all feel so good and inviting. Parts of him usually silent now demand attention, all because of a situation he cannot associate with.
"Why would Riku…" he starts, and then he stops, because now he has acknowledged it, and now he must face the fact that he has tiny glimmerings of fantasies involving his enemy whom he doesn't wish to fight. It's quite a revelation, and it is so unnerving, Sora takes off in a run, a sort of desperate attempt to leave it all behind.
Axel shakes his head and watches him run, annoyed that his quarry is not handing itself over. It reminds him of another, so different yet the same.
Sora reaches the end of the hallway, door looming ahead of him, and then realizes he has no cards with which to open it. He spits a curse at it and summons his Keyblade, just to see if it will work.
It does not, and Sora slides limply to the ground, defeated. He sighs. Goofy is gone, Donald is gone, even Jiminy is gone. There is no one to chronicle the great Keyblade Master in his moment of un-glory.
Sitting there, in a hallway that stretches on forever until parallel line meet, Sora fluctuates between wakefulness and sleep, a place where dreams have an eerie quality to realness, and a place where thoughts are best left hidden. Idly, he recounts what he can remember of his mission, of the thing Donald and Goofy are searching for, and of his old friends, his now-enemy Riku and the girl who he knows exists yet is just a wisp that flits through his mind.
The thought of Riku brings tantalizing images of the dream-memory, and it triggers a response from Sora's prone body. Emotionally, it also wakes things best kept asleep.
Loneliness begins to pervade his thoughts, and with the loneliness comes a swift depression. Since Donald and Goofy left, he has not felt the friendly touch of another being. The yearn to be touched, even if it is just a pat on the back, makes Sora close his eyes and hang his head.
He wants his old life back, even though he can't remember it, and he wants to feel welcome again. He is tired of this, constantly searching for something he can never find, always on the run from enemies…why must he be the one to carry the burden?
An explosion of anger blossoms in his heart, and with that anger comes the want of talking to someone, anyone who will listen. Instinct tells him Riku has once been the person who he would bare his soul to; now, there is no one. Feelings that have been bottled up too long, burst in a shower of tears and sobs, and finally, Naminé's work has done its job.
Axel watches a while longer and then moves in for the kill.
Sora is still crying and sobbing and snorting when he realizes he is not alone. He opens his eyes, though they don't open much – swollen from crying – and black boots lined with silver fill his vision. He tilts his head, and in slow motion, pants and a cloak come into view, followed by arms and then a face.
Green eyes stare down from a slightly pale face surrounded by red. The mouth smiles. Sora's eyes widen. He scrambles to get up, to summon his Keyblade, to do anything, but then the Nobody puts up his hands.
"Relax," it (for what else can Sora call them; they are not people) says, "I'm not here to fight you." It's not really a lie; Axel's here to kill him, but hopefully fighting will not be involved. He taps his head. "You're going to bring the entire castle running if you keep screeching like that."
Sora turns red again in embarrassment, but Axel brushes it off and kneels in front of him.
"So, you got a reason for your little outburst, or have you finally gone insane?"
The sarcasm is refreshing, and surprisingly, Sora is comforted by Axel's presence.
And then they find themselves talking, and it is unexpected on both parts. Sora tells Axel how heavy the Keyblade is in his hands, and how the burden weighs him down so much; it feels as if he is drowning in air. He says that he misses friends he doesn't know he has and how he keeps losing Riku every time he finds him. In turn, Axel talks about how easy it is to plant the seeds of doubt, and how it is easier still to reap them. He adds on that they are impossible to kill. Like a tough weed, they grow and grow until one day, they're all that's left. Everything else is choked away.
As Sora talks on and on, Axel disassociates himself from the brown-haired boy, prepping himself for the obligatory strike of his weapon. And unlike striking Heartless, there will be bloody resistance, and the body will not fade away to dust. It is exhilarating and a bit arousing in a twisted sense, and Axel readies himself further.
And then he notices how heavy his weapon feels in his hand, and he is surprised before he brushes it away. It is of no matter.
Sora pauses; he has run out of things to say, and Axel tenses, ready to bring his weapon crashing down upon the boy's head, but then Sora smiles at him, a warm, bright smile, and Axel is caught off-guard. Behind his back, his hands sway, and his weapon teeters dangerously within his grasp.
"Thank you for listening," Sora says, and then reaches over and embraces the Nobody. There is a clatter as Axel's arms fall to his side and his weapons hit the ground before disappearing. Sora does not notice; he is too lost within the realm of touch. It's been so long since he held someone in his embrace, and he presses his face into Axel's neck almost unconsciously, savoring the feel of another's flesh against his flesh, another's hair mingling with his hair.
Axel freezes, taut and unbelieving as Sora brings their bodies closer. His arms rise of their own accord and hesitantly wrap around the smaller boy's back. Vaguely, Axel realizes how small Sora actually is, and the thought brings a smile to his lips.
Sora pulls away a little, eyes unfocused and drugged from happiness at having another body with his own, and he stares at Axel, a sleepy smile flitting across his mouth. Again, Axel is struck at how much the two are unalike. One is blonde and hard and cold, and one is brown and soft and warm. An idea wiggles into his head, and it cannot be dispelled.
In reality, Axel doesn't want to dispel it, only cultivate it further.
And so while he is still not thinking properly, Axel catches Sora's chin with one hand, and Sora's mouth drops open in an unasked question. And that's fine by Axel.
He leans over, eyes still locked with Sora's, and begins the swift descent to Sora's mouth, his own mouth partially open as well. Before they touch, Axel pauses for a moment, a sweet torture that makes Sora moan softly in impatience, and then he is pressing his cold and unfeeling lips to Sora's warm and inviting ones.
It is epiphany for both.
Vague sensations crawl up Axel's back, his lips warming to Sora's, and for Sora, all the world has spiraled down to where their mouths meet, his lips trapped between Axel's, and as those lips begin to move around his own, sending sparks of pleasure through his body, Sora enters a state of drunkenness, limp and flaccid, his fingers exploring Axel's hair.
Amongst the still bickering three, Naminé happens to glance up at one of the screens in the wall, and just happens to catch a glimpse of the two in the monitor. Eyes widen and she blushes, but she saves the moment away for later use. The Nobodies don't notice.
Axel and Sora's kiss doesn't last very long, though time seems to have stopped for the two of them. Axel breaks away first, and before Sora can open his eyes, Axel is gone in a portal of darkness, leaving Sora to wonder if it was all a dream.
He shrugs it off as such, for in that strange world between sleep and awakening, dreams seem real and reality seems like a dream, and then he is off, good humor restored, looking for his friends.
Time passes as normally as it can in Castle Oblivion, and when it comes time for Axel to reveal himself as a betrayer, a surprise is left behind.
On the little white table, where Naminé used to sit, there is a picture. Red squiggles and brown squiggles meet and mingle, and Axel understands this to be Naminé's gift for her freedom. He tucks it away in his sleeve; it would do no good for Roxas to see.
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