A/N: So, here I am with yet another one-shot! :) I hope you enjoy it. My first AkuZeku one-shot I've posted. I was in a bit of a sadistic mood, and thought I'd write something dark, yet loving at the same time. Warning, this is quite nasty. Don't read if you don't like abuse, semi-rape, sex, or most of all YAOI.

Disclaimer: I don't own Kingdom Hearts, yadda yadda. If I did, (insert some witty comment about what I'd do with KH if I owned it). You get the picture. Just read the story.

If you asked me, I couldn't for the life of me tell you why I beat Zexion like I did. I did love him, so dearly. Zexi was my life. My sun, moon, stars; my everything. I didn't deserve him even in the slightest, and yet he stayed. Throughout all the bruises and scars, he hasn't left me yet. Why not? I swear I don't know.

Zexion was absolutely stunning. One could never even contemplate comparing his beauty to anyone or anything. With unique slate-grey hair, deep blue eyes, and lily-white skin, I knew he could grab another man anytime he wanted. All he had to do was give them one glance and they were putty in his hands.

Thinking of how amazing his skin is makes me fel even worse about marring it as I have. Creamy white turns to hues of black, blue, purple, and red. I want to express how sorry I am, but I'm afraid he won't believe me. If the situations reversed, I know I wouldn't. Impossible to even think of it.

Zexion was so terribly vulnerable. So fragile and sensitive. Making it even easier to bend him—break him even. I knew, deep down inside, that I was a damned terrible person. Hell, I told myself that every day. Which is why I had exactly four hundred and sixty-two slash marks on my arms and legs. One for each beating I've ever given Zexion. He never noticed them. Or he at least didn't mention them if he did notice.

I would come home from work every day, not particularly seeking Zexion to hit him. I just wanted to see that beautiful face. The face that smiled brightly and sincerely at me every time I walk in that front door, no matter what I've done to him. How could he still love a bastard monster like me? I hardly love myself.

Zexion would either be cooking or already have dinner waiting for me. I would greet him like any normal loving boyfriend should: with a tender kiss and a returned smile. I would change and then eat, always complimenting him on his efforts. He was so amazing in every way. Zexi did his best to cook a wonderful meal for me.

After eating was when things normally got bad. I would kiss him again, but this time with more force. He never resisted, always complied. Why was he so easy to meld to my will? Something inside me snapped at the thought of him doing whatever I liked, and I roughly pushed him onto the couch.

Nasty names came flying out of my mouth like angry bees from their hive. He flinched, tears forming in his eyes.

"You're a horrid, disgusting little bitch. You don't deserve to have me, fucker. I give you more than your stupid ass could ever ask for." I spat angrily at him. Deep inside I knew it was wrong. It was the exact opposite. It was I who was disgusting; I who had more than I could ever ask for. Why didn't he ever stand up for himself, and tell me this?

"I-I'm a whore." He mumbled weakly, knowing it's what I wanted to hear. I grabbed his chin, leaning down so my face was inches from his. His eyes widened.

"A dirty little fucktoy. You like being beat and fucked hard, don't you? Don't you?" I glared at him, right into his inky blue eyes.

"I love it. Please, Axel. Do with me what you please. I'm nothing but dirt, and deserve to be treated as such." Zexi whispered. As I recollected on the day's events, my heart would break at the lies coming from his beautiful rosy pink lips.

I captured those lips in a bruising kiss, shoving my tongue into his mouth. He had stopped gagging long ago at this action. His piercing eyes squeezed shut as my hands roved over him. I moaned as I felt his hand obediently start rubbing at my crotch. He knew what to do, as always.

I broke the kiss, looking sharply at him. "You fucking whore. On your knees. You know what to do." I ordered. He nodded meekly, sliding off the couch and onto his knees, unbutton my jeans. He slipped them down, along with my boxers. My length stood out proud, grotesquely turned on by this wretched act.

I groaned and fisted a hand tightly in his hair as a talented tongue darted out to caress my manhood. He took the member into his mouth easily, humming around it and sucking. I yanked his hair and thrusted my hips into his mouth. I wasn't thinking at that moment how much he must have hated doing this. All I knew what how amazing his mouth felt.

He sucked hard, until I came just as hard in his mouth. Zexi dutifully swallowed it all and stood back up, I shoved him back on the couch, where I set to work at his own clothing. I wrenched his pants down and discarded them. No underwear was worn beneath, as none was necessary.

I pulled his hips to line up with mine and thrusted in fast. There was a small intake of air on Zexion's part. How that had to hurt, I would think later that night. I showed no mercy at that moment, though. I only thought of my own sick sadistic pleasure.

I won't go into detail about the damn near rape. It horrifies me just to think about it now. I will tell you that his screams of pain only fueled my thrusting. In the end, he always came before me. And the release was always accompanied by a sweet, musical moan of pleasure. It still confuses me. Did he somehow enjoy this?

What followed was always more insults. Whore, bitch, slut, fucktoy, slave. I just didn't let up on him. It was saddening, looking back.

I drug him by his hair to the bedroom, tossing him on the bed. He laid there, quivering. I looked at Zexi, and how utterly terrified he was. My logical brain clicked back into place and my face fell. I crawled into bed beside him, my touch suddenly gentle on him. I pulled him close to me and planted butterfly kisses all along his neck and shoulders.

"I'm so sorry. I love you, Zexion. Don't ever forget that. I love you so much." I whisper over and over. I doubt he even believes me. He shouldn't. Half of me hopes he doesn't, and that he'll one day be fed up. One day he'll just walk out on me.

"I love you too, Axel." His voice timidly replies. I smiled, and kissed his cheek before falling into a deep slumber. I would wake up later that night, beat myself up over the previous events, and add another mark to the growing array on my body.

This night, however. I didn't wake up to a peacefully sleeping Zexion. No, I woke to the very thing I feared. Zexion got fed up. But he didn't walk out on me. No…

I turned the lamp on to see Zexion sprawled on the floor. His throat slit and blood was everywhere. He'd written me a note before he died.

Dear Axel,

I love you more than my life. I want you to know that's why I did this. I don't deserve you. You were right. I'm sorry. Don't blame yourself. I'm dirty.

Love,

Zexion

I read the note once, twice, three times before setting it down. I looked at Zexi's body, and my eyes drifted to the knife in his hand. A solitary tear fell from my eyes as I pried it from him. I looked the knife over quickly.

"One last mark. Just for you, Zexion. One more." I said. I raised the knife to my own throat, much as Zexi had done not long before. All it took was one deep cut and a drag across the tender flesh. I collapsed to the ground next to my lover.

The last thing I remember, the last thing I could consciously do, was reaching over and grabbing Zexion's hand. We would die together. The only time I'd ever grabbed him lovingly was when it no longer mattered.

Wow. That last part made me choke up as I wrote it. This is the freakiest, saddest fic I've ever written, I swear it. Read and Review.