Disclaimer: I don't own KH.
AN: Written for the theme of "Send Me the Thorns."


When they spoke, they spoke in generalizations. Times, dates, places-- they'd grown out of the habit of mentioning them. Every observation could be stripped down to the bare facts. In the report, they'd give the naked truth, empty of all description and any detail; they fought to keep whatever frivolous piece of truth they could. Every flower was a stem and some petals. They stuffed every forgotten leaf into their pockets, every root, weed, and piece of dirt. Anything for themselves.

Secrets weren't unusual to keep. Like loyal pets they lounged only in the bounds they were permitted, never ducking the leash, never escaping through the mouth. Each piece of knowledge, each memory of a fact, belonged to the mind that held it. It'd be forfeited if asked for, but why give what isn't yet wanted?

No one asked questions in the Organization; too much fear of being questioned in return.

This shrouded society was held together on the spindle-like assumption that never would the intentions of one pit him against another. All working for the same common goal. No counter-productive activities involved.

Every now and then, when he can feel the vibes of Need and Hunger, when he can see the overwhelming desperation written in every newly formed line across his lover's face-- just every now and then --Axel will try his hand. His plan is never sure-fire, but his luck is better than most. He comes out smiling more often than not. He'll please the lusting more often than not. Physicality is his only gratitude, the only thing he'll give back in thanks. Because in moments of Hunger and Desire, his deceitful lover will give him anything. Everything. So long as he asks.