Disclaimer: Kingdom Hearts doesn't belong to me, unfortunately.

Summary: It's wrong on so many levels but they can't stop. He can't stop.

Author's note: Just to clear things up, Roxas and Namine are separate beings in this; however they still possess that connection with their other halves so if you're wondering why Roxas and Namine are on their own – that's why. There is also some mild sexual content – not too descriptive though, but if that stuff grosses you out then you don't have to read. Flames will not be tolerated but I do accept constructive criticism. That's about it, so please enjoy!

All You Wanted

It's wrong, so wrong, but he realizes that it's just a little too late to turn back now when he sees her there, wearing nothing but a dress that is just too easy to peal off her. And it is. In a flash he is on her, hands moving haphazardly to drag those annoying straps down her shoulders, and it's all too easy to forget that they shouldn't be doing this.

"This is wrong," he says once after they'd collapsed. She looks over at him; blue eyes clear beneath the moonlight of this Secret Place.

"Do you want to stop?" she asks. And he looks at her this time, because he knows if he says yes, this – whatever this was – would all be over. But did he want that?

"No," he says finally, and he is kissing her again; pushing the dress she was using to cover herself away with single yank. She is all but quick to respond, her hands coming up around his back to hold him to her. She gasps faintly against his ear when he enters her once. "No," he says again, looking at her face, which is lost in pleasure, "I don't want this to stop."

000

In the morning, however, while he gathering his clothing and getting ready to leave, he tells himself that it's clearly a mistake. He shouldn't be doing this, not with her, of all people. And he promises firmly that this time he won't let it happen again, but he knows as much as she does that that's a lie.

When her hands move up from around his waist to the collar of his shirt, to undo and unzip the buttons, letting them fall to the floor, he'll let her. And as his mouth trails down her skin, to her neck and then lower, she'll let him. Sometimes, they are hardly undressed before is taking her completely, and it it's not only once.

He'd be back the same time tomorrow, and so will she, because, as he'd said earlier (and countless times before)… he doesn't ever want this to end.

And neither does she.

He knows she wants this just as much as he when she pulls him back to her, telling – no, demanding that he'd not dare try to stop, because there are a few times when he has tried and she's had to spend the rest of the night (and the better part of her morning) alone in her makeshift bed. And so he stops trying to resist, stops thinking completely and just lets himself fall, because she can ask him of anything and he'll do it.

He presses right against her again and again, over and over, until her fingers are white from holding onto him too tight and her throat is raw from screaming out his name. And in the morning, she wakes, not by herself anymore, but with him; in his arms.

It's wrong on so many levels but they can't stop. He can't stop.

000

And during the day, it's even harder to get by, because they have to hide it; not just from their friends, but from their significant others.

Namine… he wonders just how many times that name has come to mind; it has more often than he can count that is for sure and it usually comes to him the very morning he wakes up and is in bed with her.

She was frequently the reason he had for wanting to stop.

"Do you love me?" she asked, as she lay with him one night.

The question startles him, mostly because he had not been expecting it – not so suddenly at least – and the other, well, because it was a matter they'd never discussed before. He always assumed they knew they both cared for one another; he thought with their relationship (and their current situation in her bed) that the answer would be quite obvious. But looking at Namine, he sensed an air of uncertainty between them.

He shifted around the blankets so that he was facing her. "What brought this up?" he asked, with a raised brow.

"Nothing," she said, with an offhanded shrug. "It's just… you never really say it, so naturally I'd be curious."

He had a feeling there was something more to it than that, but the only reply he had was, "Oh" and it was stupid; and certainly not the type of response he knew she was waiting for.

Namine looked at him peculiarly. "Well, do you?" she pressed.

"I…" The natural response to that would be yes. So then why, he thought… did it feel as though his tongue had tied itself up to stop him from saying so? He tried again. "I…I…" It was no use. His tongue just refused him the opportunity.

I love you. It was as simple as that; only three little words. It shouldn't be this difficult to say, should it? He wondered. He knew the way he felt about her… he was positive about it; there was no chance in the world that that could ever – or would ever – change. Right?

He shook his head. I love Namine, he thought firmly. I love Namine…

He wasn't sure just how many times he's told himself that, but he was no where near being able to say it. Damnit. Why was it so damn hard?

And in a flash, he was thinking about her again. He wasn't sure where that'd come from all of a sudden, or why for that matter, but he can't whisk the image away anymore – it was there; as plain as day. What the hell was wrong with him? He thought. Why was thinking about her right now? The one whom he should be thinking about was Namine, not her

He mentally whacked himself over in hopes that it'd be enough to set his focus back straight, but it doesn't. Her face returns repeatedly until she's all he can think about.

Namine was there, still waiting for him. He mustered up a smile from somewhere and pecked her on the forehead. She blinked at him as though unsure of his answer.

"I love you," he said as he peered into her eyes; she exhales faintly and just barely, as if by letting out every breath she has in her it will surely break apart this moment. He takes her hand in his and places a gentle, lingering kiss on its palm. "I love you," he said again, and it sounds so certain, so assuring that when she smiles and falls into his arms with a sigh of relief, even he manages to believe that he's not lying.

"I love you too," she whispered before wrapping her arms back around his neck and pulling him down on her.

He closed his eyes real tight when she kisses him and declared decisively to himself that this is what he wanted; that Namine was the one for him.

Later that night, while Namine is fast asleep beside him, he is staring up at the ceiling, still wide awake. He wonders just how long this madness of his will last. He didn't think he could take it anymore; the uncertainty, the lies – they were all eating away at him each moment he spends with her.

He looks over at Namine who is sleeping soundly and deeply. He pushes a lock from her face and watches as she shifts a little at his touch but does not wake. Instead, her fingers curl against his pillow and her lips parted into the briefest of smiles. And it's sad because she has no idea… no idea at all.

Try as he might he cannot get lost in her kisses the way he wishes he could, he cannot fill his mind with thoughts of her when another herkeeps occupying its spaces; and he cannot convince himself that when he's making love to her that it's not her he's wishing was withering and crying out his name with pleasure. And every time they'd both collapse, he lies awake, still thinking about her.

"Hm… Roxas…" Namine mumbles in her slumber, and he feels that he is the worst possible scum to have ever walked across this world and the next.

"I love you…" he wants to say, wants to murmur with utmost certainty, but he can't, because he knows he won't mean it. And it tears him apart.

Instead he pulls her into his arms and buries his face in her hair. This was how it was suppose to be, he thought harshly. This was what he wanted.

But to his dismay, it wasn't.

And sometimes he thinks maybe Namine might know. She is, by no stretch of imagination, stupid, nor is she blind; he has caught that questionable look on her face a few times when she catches him watching her. And by no chance had his staring been intentional but he supposes if he were to catch his own eyes moving back and forth between watching her and watching Namine, he'd be suspicious too.

He can't slack, however, because just one slip and they'd all find out. He doesn't know how he does it, really; between when he's with Namine and when he's with her. With Namine, the smiles, the laughter and the embraces all come naturally that to her and to everyone else it is like they are perfectly happy. Yet it's nothing short than a lie.

But behind closed doors, he is with her and there is nothing falsely imaginable when she is on top and straddling his waist.

And it gets harder to hide, because there are times when he thinks he'll go insane with keeping it in, and there are days when he is very close to losing it.

Like when he makes the stupid mistake by miscalling out her name when it's Namine who's encircled in his arms and not her. Or how he must always suppress this unshakable habit of envisioning red hair on his pillow when he has Namine's blonde tresses bunched into his fists and she lies there beneath him. And then there are times when he has just about had it, and is dragging her into a nearby shed. While she protests and tells him urgently that someone can come by any moment, she doesn't say anymore the second he crushes her mouth with his and hoists her up against the wall to undo her dress…

000

He should not be thinking this way about her, he reminds himself when he pulls away and she falls against him, out of breath. He must initiate some self-control. He should not be feeling - every time he saw her – like his chest was going to explode from such an overwhelming need to be with her. He has tried, on a lot of accounts, to rid of her from his thoughts, but he can't; he knows that as soon as he shuts his eyes the first thing he'll see is her face.


And furthermore, he doesn't think it's wise to test the remnants of his sanity in a duel competition, because really, he doubts he'd be able to concentrate anyway, but no one can say no to Selphie when she is this headstrong about something.

"C'mon, Roxas," she whines and proceeds to tug on his shirt like a three year old begging for candy. "It'll be fun!"

He groans and Namine, who is beside him, holding his hand, giggles because she thinks the pained look on his face is from annoyance and not from actual utter agony.

"Yeah, c'mon, Roxas," says Namine, and he must keep his eyes from exploding in shock because he doesn't think she'd ever leave him to side with Selphie like this. "Why not?"

"Shh. Don't encourage her," he mutters, casting a weary glance over at Selphie who is now bouncing excitedly at the balls of her feet. "See? Look what you've done."

Namine rolls her eyes at his accusing expression and smiles. "It'll be fun though!"

"Yeah, Roxas, lighten up!" says Selphie with a laugh. He grimaces. "I'm going to go now, but I better see you there, Roxas, or else!" She pokes at the tip of his nose imperiously and he dares not disbelieve her words.

Yes, he has sealed his fate, he thought with an inward sigh. She pats him (quite hard) on the back right after and sends both him and Namine a wide and incredibly cheerful smile before waving away and leaving.

When she is gone, he turns to Namine and says reproachfully to her, "Who are you and what have you done to my girlfriend?"

Namine giggles. "Oh, hush, you," she chides. He grimaces (again) because what she doesn't understand was his question wasn't aimed to amuse her. Then she is lowering her voice and inching nearer, as though ready to confide in him a secret. "I heard Sora was going to be there," she whispers. There is a pause because he doesn't see why this should be important; and then, "you don't want him to think you were chicken, now do you?"

And that is that.

He is by the beach, handling a wooden sword and waiting in line for his turn to spar. He's in a sour mood, however – not all like the rest of them who are grinning like mad and are bursting with excitement – because he still can't believe he was actually talked into coming here. He looks over at Namine, who is sitting among the crowd with her hands folded carefully at her lap; she spots him and waves.

Sly girl, he thinks, she definitely knew which button to provoke, and in this case it was his pride. She is still waving and her smile is bright – he decides, with a heavy sigh, that he has no choice anymore but to proceed. He turns his attention to the battle ahead.

At the moment it is between Sora and Tidus.

Swords clash, feet move, and everything is at an even, fast pace; the crowd is enticed by it, they are cheering them on, but he feels that it's not fast enough.

Sora's maneuvering is practiced and sharp whereas Tidus is sketchy and has too many holes in his tactics that he's counted at least a hundred different ways already how to take him down. He was positive Sora could see the loopholes too; the boy was definitely not using his full strength when he'd inflict a hit that Roxas was positive could have easily decided the match. There is no way Tidus' aggressive strides could ever hit Sora. Watching Sora's performance, he is aware of each move he does and will do the next. He doesn't need to watch because he knows in the end who'll be the victor.

It was just a matter of time before Tidus is beaten.

Ding! Ding!

"And the winner is: Sora!"

As predicted.

The crowd goes wild.

And the battles keep coming; one after the other. He doesn't know how many of them he's seen so far or how many of them he's entered, but it was not until the sun begins to set that they were finally at their last battle.

"Next round contestants are…" There was a pause as the person cleared his throat. "Roxas!" He looks up at the sound of his name, somewhat surprised, "and…Sora!"

Everyone cheers and roars with sudden excitement as if this is the very battle they'd all been waiting for, but him, Roxas, he was still and all else was quiet.

Sora…

He was fighting Sora.

Sora.

Were those words ever going to process…? He can't somehow believe it. And, glancing at Sora, it looked as though he couldn't quite believe it either. The other boy isn't all smiles this time, instead, he looks serious. There was something different about the way his eyes glinted and the way his lips were a mere line across his tanned face; as though this battle wasn't simply another fight between friends. It was something else; it was real.

And strangely, he, Roxas felt the same.

"Roxas!" Namine calls from the crowd. He spots her right away. She waves. "Good luck!"

He smiles at her and waves back.

"Sora!"

The voice startles him almost, but it is loud and clear in his ears that it drowns out nearly everyone, even Namine. He knows who it is. He's heard it before – many, many times before in fact, and usually, it is crying out his name into the night and greeting him happily the following morning. He knows he shouldn't, but he can't help himself… he looks.

It was her.

In an instant, his breath stops short and his heart speeds up. The reaction never dies or gets old when he sees her. Never.

She is smiling and waving and her eyes are on him.

On Sora.

Not him.

Sora.

The brown-haired boy waves back; that happy, exuberant streak of his has returned at full blast. Just like that. It was as if that look of challenge they'd shared a while back was non-existent. And it was all simply because of her. The one he cares for most was there in the crowd, cheering him on.

And for reasons he knows he shouldn't be feeling, that idea does not sit well with him at all. There is a sudden burst, like a damn, in his chest that he can't control. It wants to be let out; it wants to claw and to pounce – it wants to scream!

I love you, he sees Sora mouth to her.

Roxas's eyes narrow. He looks to her and sees her smiling endearingly. And she is mouthing something back; and he's never been this focused, this skilled at reading lips before as he was now. He follows her mouth, the way her lips form, move, and instantly by the second word he knows what she is saying.

I love you too.

And that is enough for Roxas. He's aware he's being stupid, acting all jealous like this when he knows he shouldn't be. He just keeps telling himself that her words are a complete necessity; it comes with the pretending and the hiding. He looks over at Sora again, who is positively glowing. And the monster that's in his chest reacts, quick and immediate. It's growing stronger, fiercer and much, much, harder to keep at bay. He's never actually hated Sora before, but if there was ever a time when he had truly, truly, resented the boy for something it was now.

As if sensing his annoyance, Sora met him square in the eye. The look is back and the challenge is there.

Roxas's jaw is clenched and his right hand tightens its hold on his sword. There was no way he was going to lose now.

"Would both contestants please make their way to the front?" says the announcer into the mike.

They do so, pace slow, shoulders firm and swords at their sides. Everyone is murmuring, is chatting amongst themselves quietly.

"Okay, boys, play fair," says the referee. Both boys grunt in agreement, but their eyes are met square on, unflinching. "On my count now: three…" Stance. "Two…" Swords drawn. "Three!"

Start.

It is like the battle to him is a script. Each swing, each throw and each hit is like something he's known since birth; something he could recite perfectly in his sleep. Sora knows him. And he knows Sora. Everything he threw at him, Sora countered or evaded and whatever Sora did, Roxas knew ahead of time.

From the corner of his eye, he sees her. She is watching with her hands clenched together in her chest as she bites her lower lip in an obvious attempt to quell the spasmodic racing of her heart. She is watching Sora again. She is always watching Sora.

He is so frustrated by the thought that when he swings he misses Sora just by inches, and winds up scraping a fairly large mark on the trunk of the tree instead.

Sora looks at the mark and then back at him, his eyes slightly narrow. At the moment, he is too worked up to care. From the corner of his eye, he sees her. He expects her to be staring at Sora, to be watching him with such worry that it makes his chest ache, but what he doesn't expect is that she is no longer staring and worry over Sora... no, instead she is staring at him. Roxas.

Their eyes meet.

The instant is short-lived, however, because at that second Sora has taken him by surprise. He does not anticipate the swing of Sora's leg in his line of vision, but in the last minute he pulls his sword and stops the coming attack. He is knocked back, his shoes skidding against the sand; Sora moves quickly to deliver the last blow but to his, and every one else's, surprise, it doesn't come, because in his hands is not the wooden sword... it's the Oathkeeper. And in Sora's, he is holding Oblivion.

He wonders for a second who'd thought to call out his weapons first or if it was more of a subconscious act on both their parts that'd caused their Keyblades to come to their aids?

Everyone is silent because no one knows exactly what is going on or why their weapons are different. He and Sora are at a halt; their blades still joined at the hilt and neither makes the motion to pull away.

At last, the announcer is the one to break the tension. "And… the winner is… Sora!"

The crowd breaks into uncertain applause.

Finally, Sora pulls away and Oblivion disappears in a stream of dark light. Roxas grunts and pulls himself to his feet; Oathkeeper in hand. He wills it to vanish and it does.

Both boys are out of breath but neither is willing to say anything to the other, nor look each other in the eye.

The referee is at their sides. "Okay, boys," he says. "Shake hands on a job well done. Tournament rules."

Reluctantly, they turn around and are even more reluctant to be the first to raise his hand.

"Roxas!" He could see Namine from the corner of his eye, coming down the steps and onto the arena floor. She is at his side next, her arms sliding around his waist. "Roxas?" She shakes him a little but he does not look at her.

"Sora!" This time, it takes all he has not to avert his eyes from his other and look at her. She is at Sora's side and throws her arms around him. "Sora, are you okay?"

Sora breaks into another smile, his hand coming around her shoulders to pull her closer.

"I'm okay, Kairi," he says.

Kairi looks relieved; but the frown between her brow is far from gone. Instead, she smacks him square across the chest. "You, bum, what were you thinking?" she demands, but her tone is hardly unkind.

Sora rubs the back of his head sheepishly. "But I'm okay, Kairi!" he says. When she eyes him critically, he whines, "Kairiiiiii, I'm okay! Really, I am! I won didn't I?"

"Hm…" She hums as her lips forms a secretive smile. "Well, if you're absolutely sure you're okay then—"

"Okay, well maybe not exactly—" Sora cuts him quickly. Kairi raises a brow. "I may have sustained some minor injuries."

"Oh, really?" says Kairi, skeptically, but the smile on her face is widening. "Let me see."

Sora points at his arm. "See?" He points at the skin on his arm, but there really isn't anything there. "It hurts."

"Aww," Kairi coos playfully. "Poor baby. Okay, I'll kiss it better." She pecks the spot on his arm where his so-called injury was at.

"And here!" Sora says automatically, pointing at his cheek. Kairi tiptoes and pecks him on his cheek. "And here!" He says again, this time at his lip.

Kairi crosses her arms. "Are you sure you're hurting there, Sora?" she asks. "I doubt I saw any of the boys try and kiss you."

"Kairiiii," Sora whines again. He pouts childishly, causing her to smile again.

"Honestly," she says, rolling her eyes as she got on her toes, "such a baby." But she kisses him on the mouth. She lingers there for the longest time, until finally, Roxas can't take it anymore.

Their teasing exchange was more than enough for him to want to kill himself.

He clears his throat. The two instantly part, much to his relief.

Sora looks at him again, and to the best he can he tries not to sound too irritated when he speaks, although it's quite hard when she is standing there in Sora's arms. So, he manages to grit out a "Congratulations" from somewhere before thrusting his hand out to him.

Sora blinks a little but takes the outstretched hand. "Thanks," he says, cracking a faint smile.

Roxas nods and pulls his hand away just as fast. He forces himself to look elsewhere when he sees Sora and Kairi close in for another tight embrace. Instead, he faces Namine, who is looking at him a little oddly with a small but unmistakable frown on her face. He quickly assures her with a smile, although it doesn't quite meet his eyes, because somewhere up ahead he knows that they had not pulled away yet.

Again, he tells himself it's out of necessity, but it's like torture.

He pulls Namine to him unexpectedly, gripping onto her as firmly as possible; she is startled at first but then relaxes into his embrace. She slides her arms around his waist and holds him to her; he proceeds to bury his face into her hair and sinks his chin on top of her shoulder as she rubs him soothingly up and down his back.

He is tempted to look up again, although he knows he shouldn't, but he does so anyway because it's addicting – he can't help it. He raises his eyes slightly, slowly and then finally they meet hers.

From over Sora's shoulders, she is staring and watching him. There is no fault about it.

There is something about her gaze that he knows is quite different. It's in the way her blue eyes dance and light up –tantalizing, dazzling and beautiful; a soft flicker in it's depths that is both fleeting and surreal; almost as though it were trying to whisper him a secret.

All is broken and finished when Sora bends by her ear; whispers something, causing her to blink out of trance and avert her gaze quickly. Roxas can see the jerk of her senses from between dream and reality and realizes that he is the same. She nods her head at Sora in approval, a small smile back in place.

Everything is back in place.

But as she walks away, her hand in Sora's, Roxas can see the slightest turn of her head in his direction…

000

And that night while they lay next to each other; her head on his chest and his hand around her shoulders, he asks her, because really he's curious, and he hopes that the jealousy in his voice isn't apparent when he speaks. But just incase he keeps his eyes trained on the wall.

"Are you… are in love with Sora?" he says.

She lifts her head suddenly. "What?" she says, as though she isn't sure if she heard right.

"I said are you in love with Sora?" he repeats, a little annoyed that he's had to say it twice when the first time took him forever to say.

She frowns, a tad confused. "Why are you asking?"

He shrugs a shoulder. "Curious," he says, and technically he isn't lying because he is curious. The intentions surrounding the curiosity, however, are another matter. "Well are you?" he presses, eyeing her critically.

"If I said yes, would you tell me the real reason why you are so… as you put it… curious?" she asks, crossing her arms. "And don't tell me it's because you are," she says once he opens his mouth to do just that.

He mumbles something incoherent beneath his breath because she knows him all too well.

She smiles and places a lingering kiss on his cheek. "Cute," she says.

He scowls. "Don't placate me," he says warningly, but his persistence for anything serious is lost when his lips starts curling upward. He's a second too slow to turn his face and hide it.

"See?" she says accusingly at him. Perfect, he thinks, she is encouraged. The teasing will never end by this rate. "You want to smile!"

"Do not," he grumbles.

"Do too!" she says and continues to poke away at his cheek. "Do too, do too, do too!" And he knows it's useless to argue, not when she's grinning so widely and wearing nothing beneath the overgrown shirt she took from him for cover.

"Okay, that's it," he says, throwing his hands up in the air, "I've had enough!"

She squeals when he takes her by her waist and drags her beneath him. She barely has time to react, push him off or do anything else, because in three seconds flat, he has his hand beneath her shirt and grazing that spot between her legs he knows will make her squirm. Her wide eyes, parted lips and the on occasion cry of 'Oh!' is his only indication that his method to shush her up was a big success.

He smirks a little and leans forward, so that his mouth is just inches from browsing her neckline. "Now who's cute?" he whispers.

Her fingers dig into his shoulders, trying to get him closer but he resists. In fact, his ministrations on her only heighten. She gasps and her moans grow heavier. He's enjoying this. She is murmuring something now, but her words are drowned between rasps and heavy groans.

His smile widens. "What?" he teases. "I didn't quite hear that…" On the contrary; he knows perfectly well what she'd said.

She lifts her head and yanks her to him. Hard. "I said I want you. Now!" she manages to hiss just before the shirt she has on is being ripped off and he is thrusting inside of her. Again. And again. And again.

It's as though a damn in his chest broke loose as he watches her wither and cry out in pleasure beneath him.

"I hate it when he touches you," he hisses.

Thrust.

"I hate it when you kiss him!"

Thrust.

"I hate that we always have to pretend!"

Thrust.

"I hate that you're his and not mine!"

Thrust.

"I hate that I'm so in love with you!"

Thrust.

He stops, completely out of breath and gaps. Did he really just say that?

She opens her eyes and looks him in the face. "You love me?" she says. And she sounds so startled, so thrown off guard that he can't believe she's never known.

He looks away, swallowing that lump in his throat, and then nods.

"Yes…" he whispers, staring into her eyes as they lit up. "I do. I've never loved anyone the way I've loved you. I love you, Kairi. I love you, I love you, I love you."

She begins to smile as tears start to fall from her eyes. He cups her face in his hands and gently flicks them away.

"I love you too, Roxas," she murmurs and he's never been this happy before in his life. Not with anyone. "I've always loved you."

And he remembers something…or rather someone, who is very crucial and still very much in this equation.

"But what about Sora?"

Funny… how he is still insecure about that, but she's never really answered his question.

She smiles and places a sensual kiss on his mouth.

"I love Sora, yes," she says and when he looks away she lifts his chin back up. "But it's different. I'm not in love with him." She looks at him and casts him a dazzling smile, one that has had him floored so many times; this time no exception. "I love you, Roxas, only you. You're all I've ever wanted."

And he smiles, because he feels the same.

When he takes her in his arms again and kisses her mouth, her jaw, her neck, it's his turn to ask.

"Do you want to stop?"

Just in case.

Because they know they should not being doing this.

But he knows what she'll say, because they both know that even while it's wrong they are too far gone to stop now.

They are in love.

"No," she says automatically as she moves her arms around his back to hold him to her. She smiles up at him. "No, I don't want this to stop."

And that's all he needs to hear.

All he ever wanted.

End

A/N: Whoot. It's done. Not much of a one-shot though, considering its length. I have a terrible habit of overdoing it sometimes – most of the time… okay… all the time. But who cares? Anyway, this is the first time I've actually ever strayed into the R content, as well as change a little of the style of my writing, so yeah… please no flames. Be gentle! Tell me what you think? Was it good, bad, needs improvement; were characters okay, etc? Feedback is always nice.

Well, you know the cue!