SWEET TEMPTATION


Pairing: Roxas/Sora

Summary: It's been weeks since he'd started following Sora around; to school and back. Now, hellbent on having the brunette for his own, he's determined to make his intentions well-known. Roxas knew it was wrong, but temptation was a powerful thing.

A/N: well, after my other one shot midnight television received pretty positive feedback (even though it was my first time writing smut and i was freaking out about it because reasons) i decided i should write more plotless porn while working on my other stories aww yiss. but i'm so sorry this ended up so long (13,866 words, according to zenwriter) because i didn't intend for it to be. nothing i write turns out how i imagine. i'm worried that this one isn't as good as the last, but i'll let y'all be the judge of that. so, enjoy!


The sky had long since darkened with the welcoming of evening transitioning into nighttime, the clouds that had gathered some time ago only adding to the growing ominous atmosphere. A chill had risen in the town, chasing anyone with plans of spending their night outside back into the warmth of their homes, leaving a single figure out in the open.

To anyone who might have passed by, he would seem like your average random guy in a dark cloak waiting with a purpose—perhaps a drug dealer, or maybe someone waiting for a dealer, maybe even a hooker attempting to lay low until their next client showed up. Except none of those assumptions would be correct. He wasn't a dealer, nor was he waiting for one. The hooker idea seemed pretty plausible, though.

Roxas stood on the the opposite side of the road, body concealed in the shadow of an alleyway, eyes trained on the building across the street. His bangs were matted to his forehead, the sudden torrential downpour hitting the leather of his coat almost deafening in his ears.

What am I doing out here?

He shouldn't have been there. He shouldn't have been doing this. He shouldn't have been watching and waiting for someone like some kind of desperate, sex-crazed fool. So many things he knew were wrong, but couldn't really bring himself to care enough to stop himself. He had made up his mind before he left the warm, blanketed confines of his bedroom and disappeared into what would probably turn into a nasty thunderstorm within the hour.

He shifted his feet, glancing down at nothing to keep himself busy, to look busy. To try to trick himself into thinking that he was doing something else with his time. He was wearing his Organization coat again. He had sworn to himself that after everything was said and done, he would never wear it again, deciding he wanted to live a normal life. The attempt to ignore the piece of clothing altogether was a means of repression; to make himself forget everything that had happened before. Putting it back on was like tearing open old wounds; wounds that seeped through his skin with his inner battle of morals versus desire rather than the deep searing red of being reminded of his past.

A cloud of smoke drifted through his thoughts, permeating off of the desire that burned within him, lingering and cutting off all sources of oxygen until all that was left was Sora Sora Sora. Roxas was, by definition, stalking the poor kid. Had he been in his right mind, he probably wouldn't have been doing it. He would've been at home doing something a little more productive. Unfortunately, the only means of productivity he had been subjecting himself to was getting off to thoughts of a certain brunette. He felt a small wave of nausea twist his stomach. He'd been wanting Sora for weeks now; a growing hunger inside himself that he didn't even know was there until it was there, and he didn't know he wanted until he wanted it. The things he would do to the brunette if he were given the chance; Sora backed up against his bedroom wall, bent over his desk, thrown down onto the floor, or even just on his bed. But then waiting for that chance to present itself had gotten tiresome. Roxas knew the ways of the world; those who weren't born lucky made their own luck. It wasn't the cleanest way to get what he wanted, but as long as no one got hurt, it didn't matter to him.

It was so wrong—he knew it was. But there was something inside him, and he knew it wouldn't go away until it was satiated.

He tried to be as inconspicuous as possible, standing within the shadow of a pair of tall buildings—some low-rent apartments or something. He hid in a spot where no one would be able to see him from a balcony or window, sandwiched between red and gray bricks as he waited.

He had followed Sora home before—the brunette had become somewhat of an obsession for him; an unhealthy one. Not that there was really such thing as a healthy obsession. In the middle of the day, it was easier; he didn't have to hide. He blended in perfectly with the crowds of people. Now, with the cover of night draped over the city with an impending storm brewing off in the distance, the prospect of tailing the brunette seemed that much more wrong.

He shifted his weight from left foot to right foot and back; he was getting impatient. How long did Sora have to be in there anyway?

"He better get out here soon," he muttered to himself, glancing up at the weeping sky. "He'll get caught in the storm." And I'll get caught in it too, he thought dryly.

-—-—-

Sora stared at the clock above the blackboard. Seven more minutes, he said to himself. Just seven more minutes and I can go home and hide in my room until Monday comes around. His leg jiggled under his desk impatiently, the lesson going right through one ear and out the other. As much as he needed to pay attention, as much as he knew he should've been paying attention, he couldn't bring himself to care.

It was his own decision to go to cram school after his parents started complaining about his perpetual average academic standings, but half the time he found himself wondering when the hell in his every day life was he was ever actually going to need to figure out the hypotenuse of a right-angle triangle. When the hell would he ever need triangles again period? It was all so pointless, so frustrating, just so he could please his parents.

And then there were the other things, like Riku and Kairi suddenly acting weird towards him without so much as an explanation, his teachers all seeming to have it out for him all at once, and a feeling of impending doom at the thought of a mental breakdown. But with the way he felt like the weight of the world was pressing down on him at twenty-times gravity, he was sure he would crumble soon enough—be crippled by the stress.

Less than a minute...

-—-—-

Roxas licked his lips and brushed his bangs from his face, running a hand through the rest of his hair and fluffing out as much water as he could before glancing down at his gloved hand. The coat wasn't complete without the gloves, he'd decided. And the gloves weren't complete without the boots, and he just so happened to be wearing black pants that day. Well, he was on a mission of sorts. It just happened to be a mission to fulfill his own selfish desires, not one where he served as a pawn for someone else.

He heaved a sigh. What in the hell was wrong with him?

The second he looked up and pushed as much self-loathing as he could manage to the back of his mind for later when he returned home, his azure orbs widened.

There was Sora, just inside the building's doors. He looked like he was talking to someone, a smile spread on his cherubic features—though even from where he was standing across the street, Roxas could tell it wasn't real. The blonde felt his heart jump in his chest, arms and fingers tingling in anticipation as the brunette finally emerged, his face falling into a deep frown.

It seemed so out of place.

"The weather channel didn't say anything about rain!" Sora whined loudly upon exiting the cram school. "I don't have an umbrella!" It was times like that, that he wished he'd learned to drive. He thought about calling Riku, but it was almost eleven at night. Even if the silver-haired boy was his best friend and would probably do anything for him if he asked, Sora couldn't bring himself to do it. Besides, Riku would probably berate him for asking for a ride. He could hear him already, going on about how he should've "taken the initiative to read the driver's manual instead of procrastinating like he always did". He couldn't call his parents either; they'd pretty much forgotten he existed and decided run off on some week-long vacation thing that he had no idea they'd even wanted to go on.

Sighing in defeat, the brunette started down the flooding sidewalk, his sneakers splashing in puddles gathered in the dips and holes in the concrete. Roxas was quick to follow, pulling the hood of his coat over his hair, drips of rainwater settling on his skin and rolling down into the nothingness beyond the leather.

He stuck to the shadows as much as possible, stepping around the circular spotlights the streetlamps created, keeping himself only a few steps behind the brunette. He caught himself watching the way Sora's uniform pants fit around his slim legs, slender hips, and the cutest ass he's ever seen. It was taking all of his will power not to tackle the other teen to the pavement and have his way with him right there on the street. But he could see a difference in Sora's demeanor. Usually the brunette had his head held high, a cheery atmosphere surrounding him, even with the weather conditions—one that made it almost impossible for Roxas not to smile (even though stalking people was nothing to smile about when he really thought about it). Whether it was the gloomy setting or something else that the blonde wouldn't be able to see, Sora was different.

The rain had gotten more intense within the few minutes he'd been following the other boy, and somewhere in the back of his mind he was worried that his coat might be making too much sound against the continuous white noise of the downpour. Luckily for him, although he was uncharacteristically somber, Sora was as oblivious as ever, not even suspecting that there might be another presence nearby.

Roxas kept his pace slow, watching from under the shadow of his hood as Sora turned a corner, making the same turn less than thirty seconds later and coming to a complete stop, almost colliding with the brunette's back. He blinked and stared as the other boy stood around and doing virtually nothing. What the hell is he waiting for? A sudden wave of something like panic rose in the pit of his stomach, making him back up around the corner just in case he'd underestimated the other boy's instincts.

Sora looked behind himself, eyebrows furrowing as he surveyed the surrounding area. The streets looked so much frightening at night; empty and holding a sense of the unknown, even more so with the dark storm clouds and pouring rain. He couldn't shake the feeling that he was being followed. The stress from his parents, his friends' strange behaviour, and the extra weight of attending cram school every night for about eight hours was probably making an impact on his mental state.

He wasn't himself at all lately.

Everyone seemed to be acting differently towards him; like they had all been putting on some kind of charade and were finally letting themselves show what they really thought about him, felt about him, thought he deserved to be treated like. Things weren't the same anymore—not just with the people he knew, but with himself. It had hit him like a ton of bricks and he wondered at what point everything had began splitting at the seams. He continuously felt like he needed something, anything, to remind him that there were some things he could keep control over instead of surrendering to fate or God or whatever was deciding it was okay to change everything in the blink of an eye. He wasn't sure how much longer it would be until he cracked and broke down, but he wasn't looking forward to it.

He heaved a sigh and tilted his head up towards the pouring rain, letting it beat against his closed eyelids and parted lips. The small action had grounded him, helping him gain some grip on reality instead of letting himself slip into a comfortable numbness that, although it was nice, took a long time for him to pull himself out of. At least when he got home he'd be able to take a load off—take a hot shower, eat something, and relax. The anticipation of falling face-first onto his bed was enough to get him moving again.

Roxas let out a breath he didn't even realize he was holding. Watching Sora stand there and surrender himself to the violent downpour, his head tilted back and arms limp at his sides as if he were waiting for something to take him away, was mesmerizing. He could feel it—the desire inside of him making his pupils dilate. He almost didn't realize that the brunette was on the move again, forcing his legs to work as he slid his hands into his pockets.

With every passing second, the guilt and the shame and whatever other emotions had been weighing the blonde down at the very thought of what he was determined to do that night had dissipated. He'd become inhumanely comfortable with the reality of the situation, as if stalking people was something he did on the regular. Sure, there were all those other times he watched Sora walk to school or walk home, but he didn't stick around waiting for the brunette to leave every single building he disappeared into. He didn't watch him through his bedroom window or wait in the bushes outside his home or anything like that. But in the time he didn't spend with his eyes glued to Sora in the flesh, he relished in the sensations of the fabricated Sora in his mind. The Sora who looked at him through lust-hazed eyes and trailed butterfly kisses along his stomach. The Sora who left lingering touches that felt like fire against his skin and sucked on his earlobe. The Sora who moaned his name like it was the last word he'd ever speak again.

He was sick.

He wanted to whine at himself indignantly, his thoughts already roaming. He was so high-strung he couldn't even keep himself from engaging in sexual thoughts about the brunette at least until he had the other boy in a room alone with him. And there was the issue of his sudden bipolar syndrome—a side-effect of his inner battle. Settling for slapping a wet gloved hand to his face and dragging it downward would have to suffice as he rounded another corner, a few steps behind the object of his unhealthy affections.

They were getting close to his house.

He could've gone there first, Roxas thought. The thought had crossed his mind earlier that night. He could've waited for Sora to get home instead of waiting in the pouring rain. He could navigate his way to Sora's house from anywhere in the city, probably blindfolded—that was how often he followed the brunette boy home in the past few weeks. In such a short time, he'd committed so many things about the other boy to memory; the pace he walked at, the way his hair bounced with every step, the way the chain he wore on his uniform pants swayed and jingled.

Everything.

In a matter of minutes, it would be home sweet home. As much as he wanted to get out of the rain, Sora couldn't bring himself to walk any faster. He felt tired, like if one more thing were to be dropped on him, he would implode and lose all sense of reality—like something inside him would snap and he would just stop caring altogether. Like he would have a violent burst of emotion that he wouldn't be able to control; one that would put him on a path of destruction until there was nothing left to destroy. Like if he couldn't be happy, no one else, nothing else could be either. The thought of it happening scared him, and he was doing his best to keep it from becoming more than a scenario that played in his mind at least twice a day.

Digging around in his uniform pants, he fished out his house keys, fighting the shiver that had worked its way under his skin, the sound of the lock throwing and unlatching seeming louder than it was before he pushed the door open. A loud crack of thunder sounded just as he passed over the threshold, and he let out a relieved sigh, locking up behind himself.

"At least I got home before the worst of it," he said into the empty space of the small foyer. He shook the excess water out of his hair, uncaring that he was sending water droplets in every direction to land on any and every vertical surface within five feet of him. Slipping out of his shoes and walking inside, he made a mental note to clean up any water he dripped onto the floor.

The place seemed so cold and empty without his parents around. His mother alone was enough to make the vacant space radiate with a warmth that heated him from head to toe. He had a feeling he was being a bit ridiculous; they would be back in a week's time. He needed to stop being so dependent on others.

Trudging up the stairs, the wood creaking under the effort to support him with his backpack in hand, he entered his bedroom and closed the door gently.

"Augh, of course the power's gone," the brunette growled into the still air of his bedroom, flicking the light switch up and down in vain. Even though it was something as trivial as the power going out during a thunderstorm, he felt like it was one of the last few straws left holding him together; the tiniest thing to tip the scales in his mind—the scales that were already threatening to topple everything he was trying to keep under control.

He could feel it building in his chest and pushing its way up his throat—an accumulation of everything that had happened over the past few weeks. The stress from school, the sudden pressure to do well from his parents, the way Riku and Kairi were treating him like he was literally nothing to them anymore. It was as if the entire world had turned on him and he didn't know why. It was frustrating the living hell out of him to the point where he had to pretend he was okay. Sora didn't ever have to pretend he was okay, even on his worst days. He was always able to find some good out of the bad things that happened to come his way.

But this time seemed so hopeless.

Roxas watched the brunette silently.

In the time it had taken Sora to get into his house and up to his room, the blonde had found a way in, scaling the small trellis on the side of the house with ease and climbing through the window. Just as he thought, Sora left the thing unlocked. The brunette was practically begging for someone to do what he was doing—for someone to find their way in and do unspeakable things to him.

His gaze was unblinking as he watched the other boy hurl his backpack across the room with a small cry—hardly enough to let out any frustration, and clearly he was feeling a lot of it. That right there, Roxas thought, is his problem. He doesn't know how to let it out. But it was interesting to see the usually bubbly brunette take on a different persona. Roxas had never seen him angry. Determined to the point of reckless behaviour, sure, but never angry.

I'll get you to let it all out, he thought to himself, a smirk growing on his lips.

Sora was barely holding himself together, his breath coming out in sharp puffs through his nose. He was starting to feel light-headed, the chill from the soaked fabric sticking to his skin quickly subduing his sudden burst of anger. A loud clap of thunder sounded, shaking the window, barely sinking into his thought process.

Reaching to pull his uniform tie off in one swift motion, he dropped the piece of cloth to the floor carelessly before starting on the shirt, shivering as the fabric slid along his skin, loosening and slipping off of his shoulders as he reached the third button. Thoughts of a nice hot shower and drifting into the bottomless pit of a dreamless sleep beckoned him, and he was prepared to welcome them with open arms. His hands were shaking.

Then everything went black.

"Who's there?!" A gloved hand covered his eyes, yanking him back against a body no bigger than his own, making him yelp. He thrashed against whoever was suddenly pressed against his back, another hand clasped over his own, effectively pinning his arms to his sides. "What do you want from me?!" He was almost screaming, his chest heaving in slight panic, his body shaking with the adrenaline pulsing through him. It took all of Roxas' will power not to laugh out loud, instead opting to lower his mouth to Sora's shoulder, relishing in the feel of the brunette's chilled skin against his lips. He was rewarded with a sharp gasp. "Wh-who are you?"

Roxas stayed silent, letting his lips travel along the small expanse of exposed skin, tongue peeking out to taste salt and rainwater as the tip of his nose brushed along the brunette's nape. He kept his hand over Sora's eyes, his other hand also staying in place in case he tried to break the blonde's hold on him. He needed to be sure Sora wouldn't try to escape. He'd gotten too far to let it all go to hell.

Sora felt paralyzed. He suppressed a shiver at the feel of the stranger's lips on his skin, acutely ashamed at himself for thinking that it felt nice; a contrast to the whirlwind of conflicting emotions raging inside of him. The brunette could feel himself slowly relaxing despite the situation—despite the fact that someone had broken into his house, into his room, and was currently holding him in a very compromising position, their lips at his neck. His heart was racing, half out of fear, half out of excitement. The feel of leather pressing into the skin of his back through his shirt made his skin tingle and pepper with goosebumps.

"You're way too cute sometimes," came a familiar voice, the stranger's hand releasing his and turning its attention to the remaining fastened buttons on his shirt. "You look like you need help with that."

"R-roxas?" he almost whispered, body immediately responding to the feel of rough leather against his smooth tan skin. "Is that you?" A small gasp escaped his lips as a warm tongue brushed along the shell of his ear, making him shiver in the arms of his captor. The blonde couldn't stop the smile that spread over his lips, pressing one last lingering kiss to the side of the brunette's neck before releasing him from his hold altogether. Sora turned to him, shirt undone, chest heaving slightly with every breath, cheeks tinted pink even in the low lighting the storm going on gave them.

"What're you doing here?" the brunette asked, his eyebrows furrowed. "How did you get inside my house?" He could barely see the other boy, his coat sheathing him in complete darkness, his face hidden under the hood. A flash of lightning illuminated the blonde for a split second, and Sora could swear he saw a smirk on the other boy's lips.

"You ask too many questions," Roxas replied, taking a step forward. "Another flaw to go alongside with being completely oblivious to the point that you don't even notice when you're being followed." He watched as Sora's eyebrows rose into his wet bangs, the realization slowly dawning on him.

"You followed me home," Sora said softly. "Why?" Roxas smiled a little and pushed the hood of his coat down, shaking his damp hair before looking at Sora again, his eyes roaming the brunette's half-naked body shamelessly. How long had he wanted to see the flawless tan skin in its entirety? Too long, he thought. He licked his lips slowly.

"If I answer, I guess that means I have to answer for all the other times I followed you home too," he said, shifting closer again, eyes on the brunette's widening blue orbs. "But if it really matters to you so much..." Closer... "I can tell you..." Closer...

Closer.

Roxas was up against him again, gloved hands grabbing at Sora's hips to keep him from running away, arching against him to rub their crotches together subtly. The tip of his nose brushed along the brunette's jawline as he breathed in his scent, eyes closing as he spoke.

"I followed you because I want you," the blonde said, his voice low—almost dangerous. It sent a chill down Sora's spine, eliciting a small whimper from him as Roxas' hips rubbed against his again, inevitably awakening a swirl of heat in his stomach. His eyes closed and in an instant Roxas' lips were on his skin again, kissing and licking, sucking and biting at his throat, making small gasps slip from his parted lips. Somewhere in the back of his mind, Sora thought that maybe he should stop the other boy—that it was wrong that he stalked him, broke into his house, and was practically forcing himself on him. But his body was already responding, leaving his mind to 'fend for itself.

"I've been following you around for weeks," Roxas murmured against the brunette's pulse point, his gloved hands running over a slim waist. "I don't know when it happened, but one day you just... You looked so good to me." Roxas' teeth grazed over the junction between Sora's neck and shoulder, making the other boy shiver again.

"But why?" Sora asked again, eyes blinking open to stare at the air in front of him as the blonde continued to leave barely-there kisses along his skin. He could feel it building again, the pressure inside of him. Like the build up before a loud roll of thunder making his throat tighten. "I'm... I'm nothing special." Nothing at all, he thought. Roxas wasn't sure if he'd heard the brunette properly because in what world was Sora not the epitome of perfection? Maybe it was just his obsession talking, or maybe it was purely genuine feeling, but the thought of the brunette thinking he was anything less made Roxas want to scream. He pressed his lips to Sora's ear.

"You're more than special," he whispered. "You're perfect, Sora." The brunette in his arms shivered, a small whimper catching in his throat. Lies, it had to be a lie. Sora was having none of it, feeling an angry lump forming in his throat, his voice cracking.

"If I'm so special, why are Riku and Kairi treating me so differently lately?" he asked. His volume was increasing with every word, anger flaring in his chest and pushing everything out of him in a crescendo. "Why are my parents suddenly bent on making me into this overachiever that I'm obviously not? Why are they suddenly neglecting me? It's like they all hate me. Everyone hates me, and no one can see that I need them now more than ever..." Roxas frowned, his breath ghosting over the other boy's skin as he spoke.

"Forget them," he said, his voice low. "Forget everything." He dragged a glove-clad finger along Sora's spine, feeling the brunette's body quake and arch against him gently. The other boy shook his head, a hoarse, mirthless laugh clawing its way from his throat.

"I can't," he whispered, slumping against Roxas, the fight growing within him immediately disintegrating. "It's too much... Everything's too much..." Roxas felt something in his chest clench painfully at the sound of Sora's voice. He sounded so lost; broken and hopeless. Like someone who had nothing left to live for. The blonde pulled away, looking the brunette in the face, his heart constricting again at the look of utter defeat etched into Sora's usually exuberant features, the tears welling in his eyes and threatening to spill over. It wasn't fair. People like Sora didn't deserve to be unhappy.

"Sora," Roxas started, his voice taking on a gentle tone. He kissed his way along the brunette's jaw towards his lips, tasting the saltiness of the silent tears streaming down his cheeks. The space between their mouths was almost non-existent as Roxas spoke, Sora's lips parting in an inaudible gasp. "Forget about everything, even if it's just for tonight. Let me help you forget." His voice shrunk with every word and Sora had to strain to hear him properly over the thundering of his heartbeat intermixed with the worsening storm.

He felt like he was paralyzed again, Roxas' lips brushing against his slowly, eyes open and searching as if he was asking for permission. Without so much as a thought, he gave the blonde what he wanted, closing the distance between their lips in a tentative kiss; testing the waters before diving head-first into a deluge of growing lust and pent-up stress. He squeezed his eyes closed, forcing out the rest of the tears before deciding he could care later. He could sit around in his self-pity and morbid reasoning for why his life had suddenly decided to fall to pieces later. Right now, he needed something to grab onto.

Roxas could feel the other boy's arms snake around his neck, pulling him closer before their lips parted again, his breath coming out in a sharp exhale against Sora's mouth.

"Make me forget," the brunette whispered, pressing himself flush again Roxas' front, his hips rolling slowly. The feel of wet leather against his skin made him shiver in a delight he didn't know he was feeling until that exact moment, like fire igniting against his skin or being struck by lightning. "Take me away, Roxas." He wanted it; he wanted to feel. He wanted to feel whatever Roxas felt for him. To feel that he was still alive, that there were still things that mattered, things to keep him from losing his mind because he was teetering at the edge of his sanity.

With a small, needy groan, Roxas pressed his lips to Sora's again, throwing any caution or doubt or rationality he'd had about the whole situation out the window to be torn apart by the wind and rain. Sora was willing to let him indulge in his sick obsession, and he wasn't about to let the chance pass him by. Gloved hands tugged at wet poly-cotton, relieving Sora of his uniform shirt before the blonde grabbed his hips again, rubbing their crotches together in a tantalizing rhythm that made Sora's eyes flutter, a moan drifting through his mouth and into Roxas'.

The blonde pulled away again, licking his lips.

He took in the way Sora's eyes were half-lidded before he tugged at his gloves, ripping one off hastily with his teeth. If he was going to finally touch that beautiful skin, he wanted to remember what it felt like; to burn the memory into his senses so he'd be able to conjure up a more realistic illusion the next time he needed to get off. As soon as Roxas let his gloves fall to the floor, his hands were back on Sora, sliding over his arms, his stomach, his back, his shoulders. Anywhere. Everywhere. He could hear Sora's fingernails scratching at his coat before long fingers tangled in his hair, tugging as their tongues battled for dominance, their hips rocking into each other as the need for friction against growing arousals became requisite.

A moan forced its way out of Roxas' mouth, his eyebrows furrowing as Sora's grip in his hair tightened, bringing their lips together with bruising force. Roxas could feel it seeping out of the other boy—the build up the had him so frustrated, so distraught. He could taste every desperate cry of confusion, every sleepless night plagued by pessimistic thoughts, every bitter aftertaste of uttering an "I'm okay" when he really wasn't. Roxas wanted to make it all disappear; draw it all out of the brunette like sucking poison from an open wound.

Their lips parted and he had to bite his lip to keep himself from whining at the loss of the brunette's mouth.

Sora backed away from him slowly and tugged his wrist, the mattress shifting under his knees as he climbed on before moving to lay down, his back colliding with fabric and springs as he got comfortable in the middle of the bed. Roxas watched him and made quick work of ridding himself of his boots before letting his eyes travel the length of the other boy's body, lifting himself onto the bed, the wooden frame groaning lightly under their combined weight.

The brunette watched with steady eyes, his hands automatically reaching for Roxas as the blonde moved over him. His palms met cold leather before he slid his hands back into flaxen strands, tugging gently as he brought their lips together, desperate for that escape the blonde had promised him, eager to lose himself in the other boy. Roxas hummed against his lips, his hands roaming over tan skin as he engraved the way Sora's body felt into his memory—every curve and dip of the subtle muscles in his chest and stomach finding itself a place in the filing cabinet of his brain under the tab labelled "Sora".

The other boy's mouth was impossibly soft against his own and Roxas could hear the small noises Sora let roll up his throat and past the blonde's lips for him to swallow. They were soft sounds, delicate, cute. He was determined to drag everything that Sora was keeping suppressed within himself out for the world (no, just him) to see. The brunette's lips parted immediately as he licked at the line between them, Sora's tongue brushing against his with a sureness that Roxas wasn't sure he'd get to witness.

The brunette tasted sweet as Roxas thrust his tongue passed pliant lips; like nectarines—a forbidden fruit that the blonde had countless fantasies about taking a bite of. An intoxicating flavour he was taking his time to commit to memory as their tongues curled and rubbed against one another slowly; one he knew he'd never be able to get enough of. A hand pressed to his chest and he arched against it freely, another sliding over the leather of his coat, fingertips playing at the zipper as their lips continued to mesh against one another, tongues peeking out to taste. Pulling his lips from the brunette's reluctantly, Roxas looked down at the hands at his chest.

A small smile crossed his lips at the look Sora was giving him; a mix between innocent and seductive. The perfect contradiction.

"Go ahead," he murmured, leaning down to nibble his way along the brunette's collarbone, listening to the small sigh the action evoked from the other boy before he let a hand fall to Sora's crotch, the sigh becoming a pleasured moan as he palmed and groped the brunette gently. "Undress me." He felt the leather bound to his body loosen up as the zipper came apart immediately upon his gentle demand, making him hum in approval before rewarding the boy below him with a press of their hips, delicious friction before he pulled himself away again.

He loved the way Sora's body reacted to his touch, his back arching against pink lips as they descended his body, pausing at his chest. A loud gasp of Roxas' name tumbled out of the brunette boy's mouth as the blonde closed his lips around one of his nipples, sucking at the rosy bud until it hardened, his tongue flicking against it in languid strokes that sent a shiver through him every time. His body was falling prisoner to new sensations as the blonde's fingertips traced the dip of his pelvis, fingernails grazing over his hipbone before his hand made its way over the front of his uniform pants again.

"A-ah..." His mouth fell open, eyes fluttering closed as a roll of thunder sounded outside, vaguely reminding him that yes, this was happening—Roxas was touching him, he was still sane, still on the plane of reality. He grabbed at the sides of Roxas' open coat, hips bucking against the blonde's hand and he could feel the other boy smile against his skin as he gave Sora's other nipple the same attention as the first before lifting his head slowly, trailing kisses and nips on his way back to the brunette's ear.

"Does that feel good?" he asked, giving the brunette's cock a light squeeze through the blue cloth, teasing, relishing in the way the boy beneath him sucked in a sharp breath. He licked at the soft spot behind Sora's ear as the brunette nodded quickly, breath coming out in gentle heaves of his chest. Roxas chuckled lightly, nipping the lobe over and over as he worked Sora's uniform pants open before leaning up to discard the piece of clothing completely along with his boxers to avoid having to stop later. He watched with rapt attention as the fabric slid down the brunette's slender hips, his semi-hard cock springing out, the soft flesh of his thighs exposed and tempting him.

Sora hadn't really imagined what Roxas' body would look like, and for the most part they looked the same; both small and slender—petite. But where Sora's physique was from a natural build, Roxas had more to him. His pale skin covered the slight muscles in his chest and stomach and Sora had to wonder since when the blonde had been so sexy. He was nowhere near Riku's body type, but not as slight as his own. Somewhere in between the two was where Roxas fell. He was perfect.

He watched the blonde as he leaned back to sit on his heels, his hands working quickly to relieve him of the bottom half of his uniform. It felt like something akin to having his layers stripped away, everything that weighed down on him was coming off and turning into a pile of disregard on the floor. Roxas stared down at him, eyes unreadable in the dim lighting, but if Sora looked hard enough, he could see the emotion—desire and raw hunger laced with something that looked like concern or compassion—swirling in those azure eyes that looked so much like his own. He could feel himself start to blush, squirming under the silent and unbreaking attention he was getting.

The blonde slid his hands along the brunette's sides, palms caressing slowly. His eyes traced along the curve of Sora's body as he arched into his touch, eyes closing as he let out a breathy moan.

"R-roxas..."

The blonde's eyebrows furrowed as the strain on the front of his jeans increased at the sight of Sora's face lightly contorted in pleasure at the simple action of his hands sliding along his body. Exploring fingers pressed against ribs, dipped into a bellybutton, and teased the skin just above the base of the brunette's cock, drawing gasps from his pink lips. The sight of him naked alone was enough to have Roxas fighting to suppress a moan. He decided that reality was certainly better than a fantasy, even if the possibilities in his mind were virtually endless.

He brushed a finger along the top of Sora's thigh, drinking in the whimper he got in return, biting his lip as the brunette's thighs parted on their own accord. Roxas wanted to squeeze and pinch and scratch lightly, eager to see little blotches of red bloom against flawless tan. The flush on Sora's cheeks only seemed to darken as he exposed himself to the blonde above him, heat radiating off of his face. Roxas had said he wanted to help him forget everything; he was waiting for that comfortable numbness that seeped into his brain when his senses were overridden with pleasure, eager to feel how much the blonde wanted him.

Reaching for the buckle of his own belt and feeling the familiar loosening around his hips, Roxas leaned over the brunette kissing his way up the middle of his chest and nipping here and there before stopping at his ear once more, his breath coming out shakily as Sora's hands roamed his exposed chest and stomach, palms flat against his skin, eager and greedy.

The wind had changed directions, blowing the torrential rain against the window, the loud rhythmless noise drowning out any other sounds that might've been in the room as Roxas stared down at him, making Sora ten times more aware that he was naked. Warm hands wrapped around his and pulled them away from Roxas' chest, directing them lower, until his fingers brushed over the waistband of his jeans and Sora suddenly remembered his earlier command. Undress me. He could barely register the process of getting his fingers to work, not with Roxas' lips at his jugular, sucking painfully slowly until he was sure there was a mark forming.

Knuckles brushed along the back of his hand as Roxas' fingers curled around his growing arousal, making Sora gasp softly. As much as he enjoyed them, the blonde was looking to bring out more than just the little whimpers and gasps and whispers of his name that the brunette was supplying. He wanted to hear him cry out, head tossed back against the pillows as he moaned without abandon, screaming until his throat went raw.

"Touch me, Sora," came another soft set of instructions. The words brushed against the side of Sora's face in a gust of warm air that made the hair on his arms stand on end. He slid his fingers along the waistband of the blonde's boxers peeking out, his knuckles brushing his lower-abdomen with intent to tease, glancing up at Roxas' face as the other boy stared down at him, blue eyes dark and stormy like the weather. Roxas was too busy teasing the tip of the brunette's length to register the fluttering of his stomach muscles at the deliberate touches. His thumb swirled over the slit and the shaky moan Sora let fly ignited a whole new flame inside of him, the embers making the pit of his stomach simmer in delicious heat.

The brunette's hands stilled, his mind suddenly blank with the feel of Roxas' thumb smearing his pre-cum. His lips were parted, eyes almost closed as he willed the haze in his mind to clear enough to get his fingers to work, popping the button on the blonde's jeans and tugging the zipper down. Roxas tilted his hips towards his hand, bottom lip between his teeth, his stomach twisting in anticipation.

Another clap of thunder shook the house as Sora's fingers crept past the elastic holding his boxers on his slim hips, his skin prickling and flushing with heat. Tentative fingers brushed against the base of his cock, making Roxas hiss in pleasure, his eyes half-lidded as he watched the brunette's face. The blonde leaned down, pressing his lips to the other boy's as he stroked Sora's length slowly, breath hitching and back arching when the brunette's hand finally closed around him, pulling his cock from its jean and cotton confines.

Their moans mingled with one another as their tongues battled again, Roxas taking the upper hand once more. Sora's free arm draped itself over his shoulder, fingertips pressing into the flesh covering his shoulder blade, nails scratching gently before those same fingers tangled themselves in the hair at his nape. As innocent as the other boy appeared to be, Roxas could tell Sora was experienced. The way the brunette dragged his fingernail over the slit, pressed his thumb into the vein, tightened his fist around the base every so often—it was a practiced technique. Roxas' cock twitched and he let out a moan against Sora's mouth.

The brunette broke the kiss, his tongue swiping along his bottom lip to catch the string of saliva connecting their mouths, a loud noise bubbling in his throat as Roxas pressed the pad of his thumb to Sora's slit.

"R-roxas..." he moaned, making the blonde's head spin. "I... need more..." Roxas almost whimpered, keeping himself together long enough to tilt his hips forward, the tip of his cock rubbing against the side of Sora's shaft, just below the head. They hissed simultaneously, Sora lifting his hips the slightest bit when Roxas' length came in contact with his again.

"Here," the blonde said, unwrapping Sora's fingers from around his arousal and pulling the brunette closer, pressing their hips flush against each other. He listened to the way the brunette moaned for him, suppressing a moan of his own. Sora was having a hard time thinking straight, the skin-to-skin contact setting his nerve endings on fire, the storm sounding further and further away, but that could've been the blood rushing in his ears muting everything but the sound of their breathing. He glanced down between their bodies as Roxas rocked against him before taking his hand again, closing his fingers around both of their lengths. "Move your hips..."

Sora did as he was told, pushing his hips up into his own hand, the slow and almost searing press and drag of rigid flesh making his eyes roll back, his mouth hanging open in silence suspended by pleasure as his eyebrows knitted together. Roxas kept his hand over Sora's, squeezing his fingers closed every so often as they rocked against one another, their shafts rubbing together with sweltering friction that sent off sparks of white behind the blonde's eyelids. He blinked his eyes open and looked down at Sora, the brunette's eyes concentrating on their erections, something like aroused fascination spread on his face.

Bracing himself on his knees to keep balanced, Roxas reached to tilt the brunette's chin up, licking at his top lip sloppily and pressing their mouths together momentarily before kissing his way to Sora's ear, breathing against it hotly with the effort of his movements.

"I want to hear you, Sora," he said, his voice a notch lower than the brunette remembered it being. "I want you to let yourself go; let everything out..." Sora whimpered softly, Roxas' hips rocking harder in determination to bring more out of him. The blonde looked down at him, his gaze dark before he reconnected their lips, breath coming out in rough pants as the kiss went from lazy to heated almost instantaneously. Their teeth clanked and Roxas let out a moan, his hips bucking against Sora's. The brunette responded with an erratic thrust of his own, his hand tightening around their shafts of its own accord and dragging another loud moan from the blonde as his tongue explored every corner of Sora's mouth.

The brunette clung to him, his free hand wrapped around his bicep in a vice grip, nails digging into skin. Roxas could barely think straight, the heat in his stomach coiling at a riotous speed. He dropped kisses wherever he could reach, most of his attention revolving around the brunette's throat as he tipped his head back, vibrations against the blonde's lips as Sora moaned for him, their hips rocking in tandem.

Sora's mind was wonderfully blank. Like he was on some kind of an anesthetic trip that provided him with an abundance of euphoric sensations while effectively erasing everything else; like being tipsy or getting a contact high and Roxas was the supplier, force-feeding him mouthfuls of endorphins. A method of escapism better than narcotics, better than alcohol, better than wondering if he tilted his head back far enough if he could drown in the shower.

Their movements were starting to become sporadic, their breathing laboured and irregular, their moans loud and wanton.

"Roxas, I'm gonna... R-roxas..."

"M-me too..."

It was like the world outside of Sora's bedroom had dimmed out completely; like the rain stopped mid-downpour, lightning frozen in its jagged path of destruction, wind suspended into nothingness, thunder muted like a television or the popping of an eardrum. Everything was suddenly in high-definition—the sound of their harsh breathing, the creak of the mattress, the smell of their sweaty skin.

Sora was the first to finish, his cum spurting out over both of their hands and onto his lower-stomach. His hand shook violently as he squeezed their cocks together almost painfully hard, desperate for something to hold onto as his orgasm ravished his entire being, leaving him light-headed and gasping for air. Roxas swore under his breath, eyes clamping shut as he bucked his hips into the brunette's tight grip, his body seizing up as the coil in his abdomen finally sprang back. He threw his head back with a cry of Sora's name, hand stroking himself through his orgasm.

"F-fuck..." he drawled, head tipped back, fingers stroking languidly along his still-hardened member. He hadn't expected that something as simple as frotting would send his mind reeling. Or maybe it was the fact that it was with Sora, because it had never felt so intense. The soft, satisfied-sounding chuckle he heard underneath himself made Roxas tilt his head up, eyes widening and breath hitching in his throat as he watched long fingers draw a line through the cum on Sora's stomach and chest, scooping the sticky substance and bringing it to pink lips.

His eyes were unblinking as the brunette licked their mixed proof of passion from his fingers, both blue gazes unwavering even as a streak of lightning illuminated everything in a burst of split-second overexposure. Roxas did the same, scooping their cum on his middle and index fingers, playing with it in slight fascination before lifting his hand towards Sora's mouth, watching as the other boy licked at the coated digits greedily, the tail-end of a small moan lingering in his throat. In the back of his mind, Roxas wondered where Sora learned to use his tongue like that. Did he practice a lot like he was sure he did with his handjobs? The thought of watching the brunette suck someone else's dick with fervour crossed his mind and he suddenly felt winded.

The brunette smiled, watching Roxas closely as he sucked on his fingers, the taste of their ejaculate strong in his mouth as he sat up, hand curling in Roxas' nape and forcing their mouths together, hot and urgent. He was beginning to understand, somewhat, the hidden longing that the blonde must've been harbouring for who knows how long. The way Roxas melted into him with that small contented sigh, the way he pulled their bodies together, the way his fingers left little imprints in Sora's skin like indents in modeling clay. But somehow "weeks" didn't seem to justify the way Roxas looked at him or the way Roxas kissed him or the way Roxas touched him like he were so precious he could break at any given moment. He wondered if this was what it felt like to be needed.

Roxas parted their lips with an audible noise, watching the way Sora's eyes opened only half-way as he pulled away to stand up, his pants suddenly feeling all the more obstructive. Tugging the sides of his coat and pulling it off of his shoulders, he let the heavy leather drop to the floor with an anti-climatic crumple before reaching to push his jeans down his hips.

"Wait," Sora said, suddenly on his hands and knees, voice soft. "Let me..." He reached out from the edge of the bed, hands falling atop Roxas' as he hooked his fourth fingers in the other boy's belt loops, pulling him so close that the tip of the blonde's cock brushed his cheek. Tongue peeking out of the corner of his lips, Sora licked at the side of Roxas' shaft, slow and teasing as he turned his head, lips moulding to the stiff flesh.

A squeeze to the hips factored in with hot breath against his sensitive skin made Roxas weak in the knees, his body leaning closer to Sora's face as the brunette kissed and licked and nipped his way to the base of the blonde's cock. One of Sora's hands pried itself from the tightening grip he had on the other boy's hips long enough to curl around his length, stroking slowly as his lips closed around the tip, his tongue getting well-acquainted with Roxas' slit. His jeans slid over the curve of his ass as Sora tugged them down haphazardly with one hand, his tongue and lips and teeth becoming more insistent, more eager to swallow the blonde whole.

Fisting a hand in cinnamon spikes, Roxas let his head tip back, eyes closing. The small unintelligible noises he made were drowned out by slurping and heavy rain and Sora humming, sending waves of sound straight through the blonde's arousal, making his stomach churn with an indescribable burst of electricity that spread to the tips of his fingers, his toes, and the hair follicles on his scalp.

It took all of his will power not to fuck the brunette's mouth into oblivion, letting out a strangled moan at the way Sora's throat contracted around the tip of his length as he gagged, bubbly spit pushing its way out of the corners of his mouth. He's thought it might've been the hottest thing he's ever seen, aside from the fact that Sora was sucking his dick at all in the first place because fuck. The third time the brunette gagged Roxas was scared he might make himself throw up, pulling at his hair gently, his cock sliding from between that set of perfect, swollen, pink lips. He stepped out of his jeans and pushed at the other boy's shoulder as he climbed onto the bed again, the tip of his spit-slicked penis brushing against Sora's chest before the brunette complied, head hitting the pillows with a resonant thump.

Seeing Roxas' nakedness in its entirety made Sora fill with a sudden desire to touch and feel and mark anywhere that he could. The other boy seemed to almost glow in the low lighting, his sweat-slickened skin brushing against the brunette's reviving erection as Roxas leaned to kiss him again, slow and passionate before descending his body, sucking and leaving marks as if to say "you belong to me".

It felt nice—to be wanted. And the thought of it not being a lustful one-time fuck-and-forget made the prospect of his friends possibly abandoning him (for what, he wasn't even sure because what the fuck?) that much easier to bear with. If Roxas wanted him, then it was enough. He had called him perfect, right? Followed him around the city for weeks, watched him; that meant something more than sex on a stormy night, right? The way Roxas touched him and kissed him everywhere and looked him in the eyes... It all meant more.

Didn't it?

"Nnh..Roxas.." His mind was wiped clean again, the pleasure principle being the only thing processed. The blonde hummed softly as long fingers tangled in his hair, lips tightly sealed around Sora's shaft as his head bobbed slowly; the bitterness of his cum contrasted perfectly with the sweetness of his mouth, Roxas found.

Sora was full of contradictions; ones that made him all the more attractive. Like how he was so clueless at times but knew how to perform an articulate handjob, or how he proved to be innocent until he had your dick in his mouth. Part of Roxas wondered if it were all natural—if Sora was just born with a hidden temptation to him that far surpassed the almost impulsive need Roxas felt to touch himself at the thought of the other boy.

His hands gripped Sora's hips to the brunette boy from bucking, cheeks hollow as he sucked relentlessly, bringing Sora back to full hardness before he opened his mouth. A stream of saliva dripped from his lips and onto the brunette's lower-abdomen; Roxas wiped at the corner of his mouth with the back of his hand before he lowered himself further, pressing feather-light kisses along the inside of Sora's thigh. He hummed in appreciation at the way the brunette spread his legs for him again, taking hold of his thighs and pushing them further apart the higher his kisses went. He paused, glancing up to see Sora with his eyes closed, cheeks dusted with a perpetual blush, lips parted, small noises floating out of his mouth. He was completely lost in pleasure.

The hand in Roxas' hair tightened impossibly as Sora cried out, something hot and wet poking at his entrance. The sensation was intense, making him see blinding streaks of white behind his eyelids, mind reeling. A chuckle from somewhere between his legs gave him the incentive to pry his eyes open, chest heaving as he looked down into Roxas' playful gaze, the blonde's breath cool against the saliva on his skin.

"Did you like that?" he asked, voice low and enticing. Sora nodded vigorously, bangs falling into his eyes. Roxas smirked and lowered his head again, the tip of his tongue teasing against the brunette's puckered hole before he blew on it—a gentle breeze against wet skin. Sora squeaked and shivered, his toes curling against the bedsheets, hips squirming.

"D-don't do th-that..." the brunette all but whined, his eyebrows furrowed as he tried his hardest to glare at the blonde currently sucking another hickey into the skin of his hip. "Don't t-tease." Roxas let out another chuckle, tongue brushing over the new blemish.

"So you don't like it?" he asked, amused. At this point, Sora could say whatever he wanted, but the tell-tale signs were all there. The brunette shook his head slowly, lips pursed. He breathed in sharply, eyes fluttering as Roxas licked at him again, slow and deliberate, making electricity shoot up his spine. Sora's voice sounded sweet against Roxas' ears as he continued to tease him, his tongue barely pushing past the barrier of Sora's muscles, the heat almost suffocating.

"Roxas!" The cry was desperate, needy, obscene. Intoxicating.

"Oh, you do like it." The smug grin plastered to his face earned him a heated look from the brunette. He was quite satisfied with himself at this point; the swirling emotions in Sora's cobalt gaze were no longer made up of sadness and dejectedness, but replaced with awakened desire and something else he couldn't quite place.

"Roxas, please..." Sora couldn't stop squirming. He felt hot and he couldn't stop sweating and he couldn't seem to get enough air in his lungs. His senses were abused, overused, and overly sensitive but he didn't want the blonde to stop. He wanted to feel until his nerve endings went numb. He watched with eyes half-mast, heat radiating off of his skin as Roxas leaned close enough for them to share oxygen, his breath washing over Sora's skin like hot liquid honey.

"Please what?" Roxas' eyes pierced through Sora's, his voice reverberating through both of their ribcages as he spoke in that low, sultry tone that made the brunette's stomach drop. "Tell me what you want."

Lips were at his neck again, sucking and biting and driving him crazy, his voice free-falling down his throat like a waterfall cascading into a misty nothingness at the bottom of a cliff.

"Y-you..." he managed to choke out. "I want you."

Roxas was relentless with his teasing, hellbent on preventing Sora was from holding anything back; he wanted to see, hear, and feel everything he was harbouring inside himself. Every hidden desire, every ragged breath, every flutter of his racing heart. The point of all of this had originally been about getting what he wanted—having Sora in a way that he was sure most didn't and wouldn't get to have the brunette. But all the while Roxas could feel himself falling head-first, further into his morbid fascination disguised as lust that was slowly fading into something different. Something that tore a gaping hole in his chest at the thought of not being able to have it all the time.

It was beyond obsession now.

"Tell me, Sora," Roxas murmured, pressing kisses down the middle of the brunette boy's chest, hands caressing his sides. "What should I do?" The brunette was writhing under his hands, arching and beautiful, tan skin soaking up a flash of lightning off in the distance.

"I-I want to feel," he said, cheeks flaming. His hands roamed Roxas' chest and shoulders, fingertips outlining his contour like he was making a mental sketch just in case he was looking into things too much and this really was just a one-time thing. "I want to feel what it's like...to be wanted. I want to know what you feel for me, Roxas..." He was babbling beyond the point of no return. In short retrospect, all he'd wanted to say was a simple "fuck me". But then he'd felt another purge coming on—more word vomit to go along with his pity story about how difficult life had suddenly become even though he was sure there were people in the world who had it worse than him, and for much longer.

Roxas lifted his head slowly, looking down at the brunette with slightly wide eyes. The feel of Sora's fingers dusting touches along his sides down to his hips made tingles brush over his shoulders and upper-back, but the impression his words left on him was so much greater, the force hitting him like a crumbling building. He didn't want to wait anymore. Anything Sora had left inside him could come out while Roxas pounded him into the mattress.

"Do you have lube?" he asked, reaching a hand between Sora's legs, fingers brushing over his entrance delicately, making the brunette whimper. He shook his head slowly and Roxas chuckled; of course he didn't have any lube. He didn't look like someone who jerked off on a regular basis. But in the off-chance that he did, he most likely used his hand dry. The thought alone was enough to draw moan out of the blonde.

Glancing around the room, he looked for a substitute, spotting a bottle of lotion on the dresser across the room. It was almost too far for him; Sora's legs were loosely hooked around his hips, their bodies moulded to one another, sparks dancing along their skin. But if he wanted Sora to feel what he felt for him, then fucking him raw was definitely out of the question. He untangled himself from the brunette, their lips moving in sensual unison before he pulled away. The bed groaned loudly under the sudden shift in weight, making the same sound as Roxas returned with the lotion in hand. Sora would be lying if he said he didn't let his eyes roam over the length of Roxas' body. Slender and pale and flawless.

The sound of the bottle opening—loud and obvious and somehow almost embarrassing like when you opened a bag of chips in a silent room full of people—made a realization dawn on Roxas. They would be lovers; they were going to be lovers. He and Sora would be lovers when morning came. The cold lotion hitting his palm in a disgusting-sounding spurt dropped a chill down his back, his thoughts running through his mind a mach speed. We're going to be lovers. This is everything I've wanted for weeks. Oh my God it's happening. Ohhhhhh my God.

Sora watched in anticipation as the blonde worked on coating his fingers in lotion, the smell of aloe strong in the air. He wiggled his hips a bit, Roxas' eyes flickering up to his before the blonde leaned over him. Their lips brushed before Sora pulled him closer, submerging them in a deep kiss that left them both breathless. A high-pitched moan came out of the brunette as a cold, moist finger was pressed against him, prodding gently, Roxas' lips against his jaw as he murmured.

"Relax for me, okay?"

A soft moan rolled up Sora's throat as the finger slid into him, the slight stretching of his muscles setting fire to his senses all over again, eyes fluttering closed as he rested his hands on Roxas' shoulders, bracing himself against the intrusion. Little specks of white danced along the insides of his eyelids, his breath forcing its way out of him in desperate puffs of air against the quiet of the room. Dropping his hands to the mattress, the brunette grabbed at the bedsheets, needing something to hang onto while the new but familiar sensation of having something inside of him pierced through his senses.

Everything seemed to be almost just as Roxas imagined it. He imagined Sora to be modest in bed, which he was to some extent, and he had imagined the brunette to be impossibly tight, which he certainly was. He slid his finger into Sora's willing body at an agonizingly slow pace, savouring the way his heat engulfed the digit. He waited until he was buried to the knuckle before adding another finger, enjoying the way the gentle clench of Sora's muscles made them slide against one another before he crooked them gently, making the brunette cry out.

In his fantasies, Roxas always imagined himself finding Sora's prostate somewhere towards the middle-end of their sexual endeavours, right at the perfect time to drive the other boy crazy just before giving him an orgasm violent enough to make him black out. Crooking his fingers again, he watched and listened as Sora moaned his name desperately, his shoulders tensing as he gripped the sheets tighter.

"M-more, Roxas..." the brunette begged, his hips rocking slowly as a third finger was slipped into him. Roxas hummed softly, fingers thrusting into Sora with ease before scissoring gently, then sliding out. He grabbed the discarded bottle of lotion again, squeezing a generous amount into his palm before closing it and tossing it to the floor carelessly. A hiss sifted through his teeth, the cold moisturizer on his heated skin making him break out in goosebumps. He watched Sora as the brunette watched him, his body buzzing in expectance.

Sora sat up slowly, his arms snaking around Roxas' shoulders again, pulling their chests flush together. His tongue traced the blonde's bottom lip before they met half-way in a heated kiss. Roxas took hold of the brunette's hips pulling them flush against his own, grinding against him slowly. The moan Sora forced into his mouth sent his blood rushing south, his cock twitching in his palm. Their lips parted slowly with the brunette nibbling at his bottom lip before murmuring.

"Fuck me." Better late than never.

The words ghosted over Roxas' lips with such ease that the blonde had to wonder if he'd heard correctly. The look in Sora's eyes told him he had.

He grabbed the brunette's thighs and pulled them upwards, making his back collide with the mattress and knocking a moan out of him, his eyes closing immediately. Bottom lip caught between his teeth, Roxas lined his throbbing erection up with Sora's moistened hole, teasing with the tip. A small growl vibrated in Roxas' chest when the brunette wrapped his legs around his hips, pulling him closer, desperate to be filled to the brim. Sora blinked up at him with hazy eyes, lips parted, waiting.

Roxas held eye contact, their connection seeming that much more intense as he tilted his hips forward, eyebrows furrowing and mouth falling open, the head of his length sinking into the hot, tightness of Sora's body.

"Oh God," the blonde moaned about half-way in. He thought he might suffer from heart failure any second because he wasn't anticipating the way Sora clawed at his arms and reached for his hips, pulling him closer with a push of his heels into Roxas' lower-back. In the middle of it all, while Roxas' mind was exploding in a scene that reminded him of the fireworks display that went on at New Year's, he could hear Sora moaning his name over and over, raw, unadulterated pleasure etched into his boyish features.

Unlike actual lube, the lotion made things almost obscenely sticky, the viscosity making vulgar noises that would later be drowned out. The sound made both boys blush profoundly, their eyes staying locked as Roxas leaned over him again, hips rocking slowly, their bodies falling into a gentle rhythm.

Sora brought their lips together again, the kiss slow and tantalizing as he let his hands roam over Roxas' pale skin, scratching and pinching lightly, taking in the feel of his heat, his sweat, the way his back expanded with each breath he took, his entire being. They broke apart with a loud moan spilling out of the brunette's mouth, the blonde's lips immediately at his jaw, neck, collarbones. Murmurs of "you're so perfect" and "god, you're gorgeous" and "you feel so good" wafted to his ears through their increasing moans and Sora could feel a strange swelling in his chest that made tears spring to his eyes. Don't break down... Not now... What is wrong with you?

Sliding a hand into Roxas' flaxen hair and gripping tightly, Sora bucked his hips hard, a sob wrenching itself from his throat. He tried biting his lip to keep himself quiet, but was failing miserably. The blonde's head snapped up something akin to mild horror flooding into his features as he watched the boy beneath him cry silently.

"S-sora?" he whispered, voice cracking involuntarily. "What's wrong? Am I hurting you?" The brunette blinked his bleary eyes open, his hands cupping Roxas' cheeks gently.

"No, I-I'm okay," he replied, voice just as small. "You told me to let everything out." A small chuckle came out of him. "I haven't cried once since everything started changing... And now you and— I just... Everything's overflowing..." Roxas thumbed at his tears before kissing Sora's cheek lightly, then his jaw, then his shoulder. Nothing sexual, just comforting, burying his face in the crook of the brunette's neck. A feeling of relief washed over him. He wasn't sure what he'd do if he ended up hurting the brunette.

"Let it all out," he mumbled against skin, lifting his head again when Sora's chest pressed to his with a deep inhalation. The brunette brought their foreheads together, eyes closed for a moment before he opened them.

"I will," he said. "...Make me feel good, Roxas." The undertones of his words were loud and clear to the blonde and he looked into Sora's eyes, watching the brunette practically lay himself out, asking him to prove that he was special and perfect and all the other things he didn't think he was. Roxas was quick to comply, his tongue slipping passed Sora's lips with ease making the brunette moan almost immediately, a new spark lighting within the both of them as Sora's hips shifted, making the cock inside of him slide deeper.

Roxas kept his eyes on the brunette's face as he rolled his hips none too gently, chewing his bottom lip as Sora reciprocated the movement, a harsh breath caressing just below his eyes. He propped himself on his elbows for leverage, Sora's hands clutching his waist in a delicious press of fingertips against skin, nails leaving little crescent moons blooming pink and red.

The sound of the mattress below them and the small grunts coming from the blonde above him mixed with his own moans that seemed to get louder with each passing minute filled Sora's head like water rushing into his ears while he showered. Every thrust the blonde gave into him added to the thick haze in his mind, drowning out everything else until there was just their connected bodies, the stench of sweat and lotion, and Roxas. A sweet asphyxiation that left him gasping for more.

A tongue at his ear and breath at his temple made Sora shiver hard, hips bucking up against Roxas' in a frenzied jolt of kinetic energy that shot through him violently. A growl and a snap of the hips from his blonde counterpart made something inside the brunette quake; a crack in his self-control severed larger and wider every time Roxas plunged into him, the blonde's fingers digging into his hips. He could feel himself crumbling, pieces carefully held together slipping through his fingers more so than before.

Want more. Need more. More more more.

"...M-more," he managed to get out between fervent moans and incoherent praises as Roxas seemed to get deeper with every thrust. He was feeling greedy; a selfish desire to have his inhibitions ripped from him by the other boy. "More, Roxas..."

The blonde was lost in the boy beneath him, moaning Sora's name over and over in an erotic mantra, like it was the only word he knew. Between the erratic thumping of his heart, the synchronized rhythm of their tangled bodies, and all the tell-tale sounds of love-making, he'd barely heard Sora's begging. The simple words sunk into him like a narcotic into the bloodstream. When he'd imagined what it would be like to get Sora to release the tension inside himself earlier that night, Roxas didn't picture it the way it was happening. What he had expected was Sora to lay back and let him have his way with him, moaning and writhing and so high-strung he wouldn't be able to fathom the noises he was making. But Roxas was certain the brunette was completely aware of what was happening.

Shifting his hips and leaning back, Roxas let his dark gaze sweep over the length of Sora's body trembling with adrenaline. Pulling the brunette's hips up at a different angle, he leaned forward again, propping himself up on his palms, hands curling into the bedsheets. Sora's hands reached for him, touching everywhere they could before settling on his biceps. He bucked his hips and satisfaction bubbled up in his chest, bringing a smirk to his lips. Sora cried out again, the sound hoarse and unheeding, a stream of pleasure-induced babbling pouring out of him.

"A-ah, yes! Just like that... Don't stop..."

Something inside the blonde snapped—a compilation of the lust and the obsession and the compassion he felt for Sora; a desire to give the other boy anything and everything he wanted, to fill him with the greatest of all ecstasies. He rammed his hips against Sora's, drinking in the other boy's cries as his body was jostled against the mattress, the headboard hitting the wall with every other thrust.

The heat boiling in his core was threatening to claw a hole through him, hungry and feral and desperate to be released. He watched as Sora pressed a palm to his stomach, fingers idle along his skin before his hand closed around his neglected arousal, a deep moan overshadowing the sharp cries as he squeezed the shaft.

"S-stroke it," he commanded through clenched teeth, hips keeping that same rough pace that had Sora seeing stars as he complied. Hand shaking and tugs frantic, the brunette jerked himself in rhythm with Roxas' hips as they picked up speed, his voice crescendoing into a near scream at the sudden assault on his prostate. The blonde seemed to take the hint, the tip of his cock hitting dead-on with almost every thrust thereafter.

Between Sora's desperate jumbled profanities—"Fuckfuckfuck yes, right there fuck!"—and his vision blacking out every few seconds, Roxas could feel the pool of heat in his stomach close in on itself, ready to implode like a black hole, his breath catching in his throat. The brunette's eyes blinked open, glazed and unfocused before he looked up into Roxas' azure orbs, voice strained.

"I'm gonna c-cum..." A burst of adrenaline exploded inside the blonde, searing and unforgiving, making his movements violent and desperate.

Sora's breaths were deep and heavy, his eyes rolling back and closing just before his body spasmed. He bit down on his lip hard, the moans caught in his mouth sounding like effusions of pain before his lips parted like a floodgate—an eruption of wanton cries spilling from him, back arched sharply, orgasm squeezing him like a vice as his cum spilled over his fingers and onto his stomach. A loud gasp and a strangled moan filled his ears and he could hear Roxas swear under his breath.

His hands grabbed at Roxas' arms, clawing his shoulders desperately and the blonde slid his arms around the brunette's petite frame, pulling him up flush against him. His hips arched slowly to drag the brunette's climax out as long as possible, drinking in his whimpers as he was clung to, Sora's face pressing to the crook of his neck.

"God, Sora," Roxas rasped out against the brunette's shoulder, stomach muscles fluctuating as the heat inside of him ruptured. His eyes clamped shut and everything went white, tremors pulsating through him as he finally released all of his hauled up longing and desire and deranged affection into the brunette in his lap. Sora let out a soft whimper, fingernails digging into Roxas' shoulder blades, the feel of being filled to the brim giving him a sense of purpose.

Breath exploded into Sora's lungs as the haze in his mind cleared, the suffocating heat in the room chilling a few degrees, making his sweat feel cold. His nerve endings felt fried, a numbing tingle buzzing through him as he let out a blissful sigh, slumping against Roxas' body. The bedsheets felt cold against his back as Roxas laid him down again, his body heavy against his as they regulated their breathing, the air thick with post-orgasm afterglow.

Sora's breath was gentle against his shoulder as Roxas shifted and pulled out of him, a small moan sliding out of the brunette.

He had gotten what he wanted; everything he'd wanted out of it.

A sense of dread flooded into the blonde again, the realization of the situation dawning on him. He stalked Sora. He followed Sora home. He fucked Sora. Acting on lecherous intentions. He was fucking sick. He sat up slowly, blinking down at the brunette as Sora looked up at him, innocence written in his sated features. He was far too disgusting for him. He turned his back to the other boy, face going into his hands.

Sora's eyes widened, panic settling over him as he wondered if Roxas was going to leave. He was wrong. The kisses and the touches meant nothing more than sex. Mind-blowing sex that left him wanting more. More of Roxas, more of his touches and his kisses. More of his whispered praises and adoring gazes. More, more, more.

"So I was wrong..." he whispered, watching the rise and fall of Roxas' back as the other boy took deep breaths. His response was delayed, a glance out of the corner of the blonde's eye was all that told Sora he'd been heard. "Is... Is there something wrong with me?" That made Roxas turn to him, his face taking on an expression similar to anger.

"There is nothing wrong with you, Sora," he said, his throat tightening. "How can you think that? You're so... you're beautiful, and perfect, and anyone who can't see that is an idiot. It's me... I'm sick. I-I followed you home, broke into your house... I— I tainted you..." His heart was racing, blood rushing to his brain and making him light-headed, a surge of white behind his pupils blinding him momentarily. He would choose right then of all times to grow a conscience, to have a guilty break. Why couldn't it have waited until morning, at least? A sniffle tore through the silence that followed.

"You made me feel good," Sora whispered, shifting to crawl over to the blonde. "You made me feel important; like you need me. Everyone else seems to want to get rid of me or pretend I don't exist." Tears were building in his eyes, glistening in the light from the window as the street lamp came on suddenly. Roxas reached a hand up to cup the brunette's cheek. "You didn't make me feel disgusting or dirty or anything like that."

He wanted to cry or scream or something—anything—to make Sora see how amazing he was without Roxas touching him or kissing him. That he didn't need the blonde to tell him these things.

"I'm not an expert on love or feelings," the brunette continued, "but I know no one has ever made me feel like this. No one's made me feel so loved." Roxas let out a bitter laugh.

"Love?" he asked. "This wasn't love, Sora. It was sick obsession. It was temptation. It was—"

"Look me in the eye and tell me you don't feel anything for me," Sora said, his voice stern. "You're so convinced that you've done something wrong, but that's not what I felt. So go ahead and say it; prove me wrong, and I'll watch you leave." Roxas didn't think the brunette was capable of being so serious, his eyes glowing an eerie blueish-gold illuminated by the orange light. He opened his mouth, and nothing came out, Sora's gaze searching his before softening a little.

"I'd be lying," he said, voice barely above a whisper. Sora's arms circled around his shoulders, their lips meeting in a gentle kiss that left him breathless. A tug at his arm and he was back in bed, the brunette boy underneath him.

Sora kissed along his jaw slowly, palms flat against his back as they turned onto their sides.

"You should've come out of hiding sooner," the brunette said with a sleepy smile, fingers finding their way into honey-coloured locks. "I could love you back by now." A dark blush seeped into Roxas' cheeks and he was given no time to reply as he got a face full of cinnamon hair, the brunette snugged against him already silent and breathing evenly. He sighed softly, burying his nose in Sora's hair and inhaling deeply, eyes closing briefly.

He could do it. Roxas could get over his obsessive tendencies—maybe. Or perhaps he wouldn't even have to. He could keep Sora all to himself, not have to worry about shrouding himself in the shadows or blending in with crowds of people. He could love Sora properly, show him how amazing he was through ways other than sex. He was sure of it. Nuzzling his cheek to the brunette's hair, he closed his eyes again.

It wasn't too long before he was lulled to sleep by the sound of the rain.