Prompt: our distance and that person(s)

Word Count: 2515 +/-

Warnings: Er.. Gay sex? Bandages bondage. Dry Dubcon.

Summary: Post-KHII, Riku and Sora have been traveling the worlds on Keyblade master business- but inside Sora, Roxas has never slept. What better way to spend a night in Halloween Town than arguing about your best friends and having angry sex?

Distance Collapse


"Not this again." Riku shifted, throwing Roxas off of him with a cant of his hips.

"So sad, you and your hand will just have to make do, tonight," Roxas sneered.

"It's not what we do," Riku said irritably. "You'd know." He glared outside the window, refusing to look at where Roxas lay back, sprawled on the dirty carpet of Halloween Town's motel room number 68, right next to a stain that was probably old green blood.

Roxas laughed, twisting his head to look at Riku, all mad grins- madder than the purple striped cat. Madder than the fire in Axel's eyes when he'd torn a hole into Diz's digital world just to get his best friend back. And there were, Riku reflected, so many things you'd do for a best friend. What had been stealing an existence or two?

"Oh, that's right- Sora doesn't know." Roxas snorted. "Because his cowardly fuck-up of a best friend won't tell him he likes him when he sleeps in the same bed."

"Yeah, and we all know what happened between you and yours."

Roxas sat up, eyes narrowed. "At least he had the balls to confess."

"And that matters, when you told him to go fuck himself and stormed off."

"Shut up about him. He didn't even mean it. Not really." Roxas toyed with the trailing edge of a dirty grey bandage. It unraveled, leaving slim slashed gaps of pale skin against his chest and arms, where the bandage had been. The bright blonde hair was a little more subdued in this world's moonlight, threaded through with yet more bandages. His eyes were ringed in shadowy brown-black, just like Sora's were- or Riku's for that matter. Magic. The strange amulet earring given to them by a talking duck made sure of that. Roxas' earring had morphed into a tiny skull with green eyes.

Riku settled back on the bed, turning his back to Roxas and dragging the covers after him. Roxas' voice sounded so strange, these days. Less flat. There was a time when he wouldn't talk at all. He'd withdrawn, Sora had said. Grieving, Riku had thought.

He knew what it was like to lose a best friend. But Roxas would never get his back.

"He was just trying to get me to stay… he never looked at me that way. Not the way you do Sora- all dirty and depraved." 'He didn't die for me. He died for Sora.' Seemed unspoken.

You just keep telling yourself that, Riku thought. What little he knew about Roxas and Axel were pieces of fragmented gossip and a few wind-snatched conversations while he was waiting crouched atop towers and open balconies, watching and waiting for his chance. He'd even met Axel at Oblivion. But he'd never been able to figure anything about the redhead out. Except that he'd really wanted his best friend back. Except he wanted the best friend he used to have, too.

All until he'd given up.

It must have been the likable Sora genes. It wasn't like Roxas himself was a little ray of sunshine, element or no element. Personally, Riku thought Axel had hoped Roxas would be a little better off than an Organization getting picked off, one by one.

The bed creaked, the eerie green of Halloween Town's motel lights shifting shadow patterns. Riku tensed. He and Sora had both had to dispatch the monster under the bed before they'd gone to sleep. They hadn't seen any Heartless activity in the motel itself…

"Why did he tell Sora the same thing?"

Riku flinched. Roxas' breath had ghosted over his ear, warm and a little damp. Hands fisted in Riku's black tattered half-shirt, pinching the skin. Despite everything, Roxas was still strong like hell. Riku's chest was going to bruise tomorrow without a doubt. He'd have to pass it off as a side effect of being dressed like a demon or whatever it was this costume was supposed to be.

"Why did he? He didn't even know Sora. Did he?"

Riku pushed Roxas' hand away, rolling over and hissing at the burn of nails scraping through the thin material. "Sure he knew Sora. He met him in Oblivion just like Namine."

Axel had laughed, Riku remembered Namine saying. Really laughed like he'd been surprised. Like he really thought they were funny in a strange sort of way. He'd felt something. He supposed he'd felt something for Roxas, too.

Roxas eyes were large- brighter for the smoky shadows around them. And he could practically read them- hurt, confusion, envy simmering into anger. It was easy enough- like reading your own story three chapters back.

"Why is it always Sora?"

Riku shrugged. "Because he's Sora." He was Sora, all wide smiles and too helpful for his own good. Sora with big dreams and a loud laugh and the hard little edge that you got being a savior of worlds. Sora who was stubborn and determine and would never let go of his sense of right and wrong. Being near him was like walking with the sun. It wasn't just light. It was warmth. It was life.

Somewhere, Riku thought Roxas probably knew that. Roxas had chosen Sora, too, on the seventh day. But he was burning, just like him.

"Stop it, Roxas," Riku sighed.

"No." The blonde's tone was hard, echoing against cold cobblestones. "You're his best friend. Tell me. You have to tell me!" Roxas shoved his hands through Riku's long hair, ignoring the tiny points of horns right above his brow and yanking Riku's head up.

"I don't have to fucking tell you anything! Not anymore." Riku fought back. He grabbed the blonde's arms and thrust his knee up.

Roxas yelled, letting go of Riku's hair and kicking back. Summoning both keyblades, he slammed into Riku's chest, knocking the wind out of his lungs.

Fucker. He was sitting on his hips, pinning him down with Oblivion scraping his right cheek and Oathkeeper slicing through his shirt's shoulder. Sora had grown a little, when he turned eighteen. It figured Roxas would have to share the added bulk.

"You chose Sora, too," Roxas said, eerily calm now. Calm and sharp like a Keyblade pointed at a sea of Heartless.

"…So does everybody else," Riku reminded him.

The blonde Other pressed Oathkeepers thick, cold barrel against Riku's throat. "He likes you, you know," Roxas said slowly. "he likes you and your stupid idiocy and your stupid not-so-noble soul. But not the way you want him to. I can feel it."

One bandaged hand let go, slapping against Roxas' own chest, his expression twisted in pain and resentment and- he had never looked so real; so raw.

"I can fucking feel you, when you smile at him."

Wide viridian eyes stared up at him through long silver hair. Roxas shifted and Riku bit back a gasp. His black jeans, shredded and loose, had already been halfway off his hips and Roxas had just blatantly rubbed up against his cock through his jeans.

Roxas stared at him and started laughing again. "You'd do it with anyone, wouldn't you?"

"Like hell I would." Feeling the flush creep up his cheeks, Riku tried to bring his knees up, bare feet sliding on the sheets.

"That's fine, too. I can take something from you Sora won't ever have."

Stiffening, Riku frowned. "What-"

Already moving, Roxas ignored him. His hands tore at Riku's pants, the Keyblades embedded into the creaky mattress with its rough sheets and patched stitches. What were a couple more torn holes when the entire bed was riddled with gaps made by monstrous claws?

His jeans slid off and Riku pressed back against the bed furiously, hands fisting around the Keyblades and trying to yank it out (because fuck, he was a Keyblade master too and he wasn't going to lay back and let Roxas rape him like a two dollar whore.)

And then Roxas leaned close, looming over him that he could see the tiny row of stitches across the bridge of his nose, the indent of sharp fangs on his bottom lip. "It's not like you don't like it, right, Riku? It's still Sora's body, deep down. Really deep."

"F-fuck you. It doesn't work that way-!"

He didn't know how Roxas did it but suddenly his fingers were inside the warm confines of his boxers, tugging them down the way his pants went. Riku's skin was paler in this world, the too-large too-pale moon only casting a ghostlier pallor over it. The Other's bandages kept slowly unraveling with each movement, pooling in dirty dark linen folds on either side of him until Roxas swept them away, snapping them off, with a vague irritation. Riku tried to take advantage of the distraction, giving up on the deeply-embedded Keyblades to sweep his arm out. Roxas yelped and leaned back, dodging the swipe. Then he paused, looking at the bandages speculatively.

Roxas was fast. Had always been. His hands blurred, snapping off a length of dark bandage from his throat and arms, wrapping the linen around Riku's wrists and tugging them upward. The Keyblades burst into motes of light, but Riku was barely aware of it. Roxas had blindfolded him, crossing the cloth strips at the back of his head to pull back and knot at his mouth, bisecting his lips and forcing the finished knot on top of his tongue.

"Let me go," Riku demanded thickly, his tongue clumsy and the sounds muffled. The way the bandage wraps around his eyes was almost nostalgic. But he couldn't rely on the Darkness to guide him, this time. He could still feel it- like an oily film over everything else. He could taste it in his mouth, smell it's cloying scent, feel the slimy coldness of it over his skin. But everything had dimmed. It was an awareness, not mastery. A tiny remnant of what he had been still living in what was. Roxas' wasn't steeped in the Darkness, but he didn't need to see him. He could already feel him. Keyblade-calloused hands too warm on his skin.

Riku stared through the thin bandage, trying to see, anyway. But everything was a dim impression, shadows painted on shadows.

His legs were forced up, knees pressed to chest and more bandages wrapping around the inward turn of his knee, pinning him in place. Riku thrashed. He didn't get very far. He must look like something, with his wrists bound and up above his head, silver hair pooling on chest and shoulders and his shirt still clinging but his naked ass presented to Roxas' cock, legs in the air and his mouth wadded open. It's an utterly helpless position and Riku burned with the shame of it.

He couldn't really tell if any of it was even for Roxas' benefit. If he really did feel echoes of a shared heart or if any of this was a twisted desire to feel something for himself again. If he really did want to take back something for everything he'd lost.

But then he felt something press inside him and he almost screamed. Fuck, fuck, no- I can't- I.

"You were looking, too," Roxas hissed, sinking deeper into Riku's body with every word. "You were looking at me."

But that had been… that had been when he'd let himself wonder, let himself see, shared a smile with a hooded Nobody across a writhing dark mass of glow-eyed shadows. That had been when he was fucked up the most. When he'd been Riku, the most.

Roxas was fucking him hard and dry, his hands fanned on either of Riku's thighs and Riku cried out, the sound muffled. Pain was lancing up his spine while Roxas ploughed into him, his cock stretching the tight virgin muscle and slamming into… Riku's hips bucked up, is back arching and his wrists straining at the bonds.

It's RoxaSoraRoxas under this skin, close like a heartbeat. Inside him and shoving his hips and legs up against the restraints. For a moment, Riku thought he couldn't breathe, his entire being filled with Roxas the way he had once been filled with Darkness. But the moment collapses and it was just frustrated fucking, Roxas' cock driving into his ass and their heartbeats so far away that it didn't matter. Sora was a ghost at the back of their minds, in the gaps between their skin. Axel was a girdle of thorns.

"Let me see," Roxas said suddenly, and he slipped the blindfold off, pushing it down and loosening Riku's gag. Riku's hair spilled over, free from the bandages and gleaming in the moonlight. His mouth was a little sore, angry red imprints slashed through the corners, bruising. He stared back into Roxas' eyes. Something shifted.

Roxas drank in the sight of him, reading the anger and the frustration, the shame and the old proud jealousy, and the wrapped up little bits of complications, the knowledge that he had given up his life for a boy who'd never quite be able to return it.

"Your eyes never lie, right, Riku?" Roxas murmured, and he slid his fingers through Riku's long, long hair, the hair he'd never cut, never letting go, tilting Riku's face up while he's still inside him, still balls-deep in Riku with his charcoal trousers hanging off his bandage-wrapped hips.

His eyes were too bright and he was leaning in so close. Riku's body backed into the mattress but he couldn't really tell why he'd want to anymore.

Roxas' mouth pressed almost gently against his, their uneven breathing mingling in their mouths and the click of their fangs. Riku tasted blood on his tongue and he wasn't sure whose it had been. It was intimate- close- in a way violating him hadn't been able to achieve.

Hands smoothed down the sides of Rikus body. "Roxas," he groaned, and arched into the touch. But the other boy stopped, his hand resting lightly on top of Riku's chest, warm and clawed right over the staccato pulse of his heart.

Roxas looked at him and a tiny smile formed on his lips, slightly more like a boy from Twilight Town. "It'll always be like this, you know." There wasn't a doubt in that voice. "And it'll always be you and me in between." In between Sora and themselves, the Light and the Dark. In between the sins of best friends and the aftermath of great machinations.

And this, the way Roxas' body fits and moves against him, his hands clasped over Riku's own over his head, is just another temporary collapse, like waiting in dark alleys and making contact; like brown hair shifting into flax.

When he woke up, the bandages were just a slightly sore, bitter coffee memory on his skin, just like the feel of twined fingers on his hands

There was no morning in Halloween Town, but the moon seemed newer, rounder and yellower than before. Beside him, someone shifted on the sheets, muttering about 'the King' and 'banana pie'.

Riku stared at Sora, sleeping peacefully next to him and tried his damndest not to think of how new moonlight touches his hair into gold.

a/n: I just realized that I kinda love this fic. It's sort of like an atonement for all the fanbratty-because-I-say-so super early fics and yet it also melds for me, why I love and how my most beloved OTP really does work for me. Please review! :)