Him but not Him
Summary: Seeing Sora always makes Axel sadly remember the last time he saw Roxas before he left the Organization. The time he told him he loved him. Akuroku. Hints of Axel/Sora if you squint. Lemon
Disclaimer: I don't own Kingdom Hearts. If it were up to me Akuroku would be throughout the video games. :D Let's face it, it's already straight up canon. There's no denying it. I used some direct quotes from the game.
Warnings: There's hardcore boy-on-boy in this fic. Don't read if you don't like. :P
This is my 20th fic posted on fanfiction~ Wai~ This is also my first Akuroku fic so I hope you all like it. I tried to keep it fairly canon... o3o
Sorry that I made pretty much this entire fic a flashback. =_=; It had to be done. Also, I know there's a LOT of fragmented sentences in this fic. I know it's not really grammatically correct but I did it on purpose. It creates a voice that I rather like for Axel.
OAO This took longer to write than I originally intended. I started this immediately after finishing 358/2 Days and that seems like such a long time ago. xD
And, as always, read and review. Let me know if you spot any errors or have any suggestions as well as tell me if you like it. :3 Reviews are like a drug for me. =w=;
Shaky exhale. I close my eyes. Wetness brims, runs down my face. Cold.
"It's him..." I whisper to no one in particular. "It's not, but it's him."
Clenched hands. More tears. Faraway stare.
Remembrance.
"Your mind's made up?"
"Why did the keyblade chose me? I have to know."
"You can't turn on the Organization! You get on their bad side and they'll destroy you!"
"No one would miss me."
"...that's not true. I would."
I sob, choke back a whimper. Why couldn't Namine have taken apart my memory instead?
Roxas turned to me. Frowned. Sighed.
"We're nobodies. We can't 'miss' someone. We don't have hearts. We can't feel."
"Yes we can! ...You don't feel it too?" My eyebrows lock together. Longing. My hope drowning; sinking, reaching out a hand for its savior with this simple question.
Silence.
"Feel what?" he murmurs, avoids eye contact. "What are... I don't know what you're talking about."
Roxas turned from me. Frowned. Lied.
"When I look at you I feel it. This... bursting in my chest." Hesitation. "It's not the same for you?"
Longer silence. No movement.
"No."
There was no heart to break. It felt like my ribcage had fractured: the next closest location in the body.
I felt. I feel.
"Liar," I said disbelievingly. His eyes flicker. He looks away. Ashamed.
"It's not real," he persisted. "These emotions... these... flickerings of feeling. We have no hearts. There's nothing to create them. They're like the twitchings of dead people. The brain just sends out last little electric impulses. Nothing else. It doesn't mean they're alive."
I cross my arms. Shake my head.
"That's not a very good analogy," I shoot back teasingly. He knows. "Don't tell me that you don't feel it. I know you do. I see it in your eyes."
He backed away from me, eyes set to the floor. As if that would help. As if he could get away from this.
"I want to do things to you," I said bluntly, blatantly. Truthfully.
His eyes widen. He can't speak.
A step towards him. He doesn't move away. He doesn't move at all.
"I want- I want to kiss you."
He steps back now. Gulps. Doesn't tear his gaze from me, begins to shake.
Another step towards him. My strides are longer than his. I was so close I could feel his body heat.
He feels me too. Closes his eyes. He expects it; wants it.
I leaned in, pressed myself towards him. Took his face into my hands. Pulling him closer; never close enough.
Soft lips. Reminds me he's not a man yet. He's just a boy.
And we were kissing.
Right then he was mine.
But he shoved himself away from me.
"No!" Shouting. Tears. "It's not... I'm not like that, okay?" Voice breaking. Stress. He's lying.
I frowned. Wasn't ashamed.
"Like what? Gay?" Eyes narrowed challengingly. Roxas looked back at me. Flustered at the very word. Embarrassed. Flushed.
Cute.
"I'm not anything, okay? When is it going to get through to you that we're Nobodies. We can't love anyone. We don't have hearts. We're not meant to exist." Sadness hollowed out his eyes. I wanted to kiss him again. Make it better.
"Does it really matter? We do exist. Too bad." A pause. "I love you. Even without a heart, I love you. Got it memorized?"
His face burned fire red. Yet another flame I was maniacal to start.
Same soft lips. I don't know when it happened or who started it.
Tongues this time. Intertwining wetness. A low moan wafts from his mouth. I get hard.
I lift him up. (He's virtually weightless.) Press him against the building nearby. Legs wrap around me. Unzipping of cloaks. Pants. A touch of skin.
I heard hurried footsteps in the distance. Probably Saix looking for Roxas.
(That's right. Remember? He's leaving me. A traitor.)
I pressed closer to him. Needed him to stay.
Then I felt it: he was hard too.
A glimmer of sanity. Realization of what we were doing. A rush.
This was really happening. I fought off the urge to chuckle, fought the surge of happiness. Our first time together. And it was in a random, insignificant alley in The World That Never Was.
Ironic, really. Tragic.
He didn't experience the same moment of sanity. He stayed pleasantly far gone. Insane. He said my name. But he didn't mean it.
He brought a hand up to trace over his own lips. Slowly, sensually. Torture. Thrilling. His fingers slithered inside his own (pretty, pretty) mouth. Slow sucking noises. My mind drifted to other places. Lower places.
(I knew in that moment. A single movement from him, a single sound; could bring me to my knees.)
And then his slippery wet finger pushed inside him, his eyes remained foggy, impassable. A shudder of delight. I felt myself blushing. Lost my cool. Held him up and watched him fuck himself in front of my very eyes.
I stared. Awed. I leaned in and licked at his chest. Claimed it as mine. Bit at his nipples and left bruises on his neck.
He shuddered in pleasure at this. Kissed me again and again. Losing more and more control.
"Axel..." He groaned. Begged. "Please." Whispers, "more."
No hesitation. Roxas gasped as I positioned myself. Pushed inside of his tight little body.
He shuddered; face insane. Leaned back, eyes closed in ecstasy. Clenched in a hint of pain. I looked at him with my own half-closed eyes. Brushed hair from his face. Kissed him.
He's beautiful.
A shift of his hips and I knew I should move. Faster. Deeper. Into the heat that wrapped around me. Into him. Warm flesh that was purely him. Eliciting sounds that belonged to him. No one but him.
Roxas.
I pulled in and out of him. Listened to him groan. Watched him thrust his hips in rhythm with mine. Trying to finish it quick. Not needing it to last. Not like I did.
It happened too fast. I wanted to hold him close forever. But I was on the edge. I was going to cum. He knew it.
"Inside," he whimpered. "Don't go. Do it inside of me."
And that was enough to get me off right then. I felt him shiver against me as I filled him. Became drunk with the (beautiful, beautiful) sounds he was making.
I'll never forget how beautiful his face was when he came.
It was the last thing I ever saw of him before he no longer remembered who I even was.
When I look at that brat, that brown-haired version of my love, my Roxas, I feel such an urge to kill him. An urge to kiss him.
He's my Roxas. But he's not.
My Roxas is gone.
And it's that boy's fault.
I hate him for taking Roxas from me. But in the end I died for him. Because he reminds me so much of my best friend. My one-time lover.
He's my Roxas. But Roxas was never really mine anyway, was he?
