Title: roxanne

Author: Digimon Empress Yaten (de yaten)

Notes: Written for the Kingdom Hearts kink meme. AU. Non-con, dark, crossdressing, violence. Riku/Roxas.

Disclaimer: I don't own Kingdom Hearts or its characters. I don't claim to own them.


Shit.

It's the only thing Roxas managed to think as he woke up, jaw and body throbbing with aches from he-doesn't-know-what. He realized that he was on his back, and his hands were bound together to something behind his head. He was… somewhere? He couldn't be sure. On a bed, and there was a faint glow coming from outside the field of his vision. He kicked his legs and wondered why the dress he was wearing just barely touched his knees – and holyhellfuckingshit, why was he wearing a dress?!

He tried to say: Shit but it came out as nothing but a muffled groan, because the ache in his jaw was from something thick and rubbery stuffed into his mouth. His mind began to clear and he became aware of thin straps biting into his cheeks, keeping the thing (a ball?) tight in his mouth. He groaned again when he felt a line of drool begin to trickle out of his mouth – as if the situation couldn't get any worse.

ShitshitshitSHIT.

He tried to remember what he had done that night, but his brain felt like it'd been taken out, wrapped in cotton candy, and placed back inside his head just in time for him to wake up, immobile and wearing something that feels like cheap costume-fabric and lace. His head felt too heavy to lift, like lead, but he'd bet two weeks allowance that it was a maid uniform - a tentative kick of his legs, unbound but feeling like jelly, revealed something strange and itchy crawling from his toes to his knees. Shit. Nylons.

He tried to take a few calming breaths through his nose, and assess the situation:

I am on a bed, in a room. With a light. Somewhere. My entire body feels like shit, and I have no idea how the hell I got here. The last thing I remember is taking Olette to that club, so she had a guy to protect her from pervs and... I sat at the bar and... ordered a Coke. And now I'm tied up. With a gag. And wearing a maid dress. And nylons.

The thought occurred to him that he'd rather be naked than in a dress right now, because whoever-the-hell brought him here probably had a reason for dressing him up like this, and in his personal opinion, dolling someone (dolling a GUY) up in a maid costume and tying them to a bed was definitely something that only freak-weirdo-perverts did.

Freak-weirdo-perverts like the guy who bought him the Coke.

… Oh.

As if on cue, a door from behind Roxas clicked open.

Roxas froze.

Oh.

"Well, well, if this isn't the prettiest little picture…"

Shit.

Roxas began to struggle against his bindings just as someone – his captor, it had to be—stepped next to the bed and stared down at him.

It was the guy who bought him the Coke, Roxas realized – he had been sitting alone, watching Olette dance with someone from the corner of his eye. He didn't have any money, so the barkeep left him to his own devices which was just fine and dandy for Roxas. But someone had taken up the seat next to him and offered to pay for a drink—he recognized the face, someone at his school or maybe they had saw each other in the supermarket, and the other boy offered the name "Riku" easily enough. He had silver hair and sort-of-old eyes, like he had been through shit, but Roxas accepted the drink—Riku certainly wasn't some wrinkly old pervert with a hard-on in his knickers.

And, standing next to Roxas squirming on the bed, he still wasn't some wrinkly old pervert.

But he definitely had a hard-on.

He was wearing skin tight leather pants—the same he'd been wearing at the bar. But he was currently shirtless, and his cock strained against his leg.

Roxas' stomach twisted at the sight and he kicked his legs uselessly, growling through the gag and hoping his glares would intimate his captor. Somehow.

Riku only chuckled and tilted his head to the side, covering one eye with his bangs.

"You know, that's one of the reasons why I picked you. You're so… defiant." He kneeled next to the bed and cupped Roxas' cheek, tsking when he felt the drool there. "And messy, it seems." He reached into his pocket and pulled out a strip of clothing, wiping at Roxas' cheek with something like a smile.

Roxas tried to jerk his head away—he wasn't a fucking baby—but found his chin held tightly by Riku's fingers. He gulped and forced himself to stay still as the older boy wiped at his face in an oddly tender fashion… maybe he would let him go?

Roxas tried to speak around the gag, which came out more as muffled grunts, but Riku seemed to get the meaning and clasped the hook of the straps holding it on his face.

"If you scream," he said, sort-of-old eyes suddenly much, much scarier, "I'll cut out your tongue. And don't speak until I tell you to."

Roxas nodded, feeling suddenly numb, and worked his jaw around as the heavy ball came out with a pop and a thin line of drool that Riku easily wiped away. Roxas took a few steadying breaths, and Riku kneeled once more next to the bed.

"All right, speak."

Roxas swallowed and tried not to sound nervous. "I… um… what is going on? Why am I… here?"

Riku smiled. "Because I brought you here. And," he said, answering before Roxas could ask, "I brought you here because I really, really like you, Roxanne."

Roxanne? Roxas frowned and made a confused noise. "My name isn't Roxanne, it's Ro--" He gave a short cry as Riku backhanded him, pressing both of his hands on either side of the pillow under Roxas' head and straddling the younger boy's lap.

"Your name," he hissed, breath hot against Roxas' ear, "is Roxanne."

Roxas cringed at the involuntary tears stinging his eyes and nodded. Don'targuewiththepsycho, don'targuewiththepsycho.

"I, uh, I'm sorr—"

"Shhhh…" Riku pressed a finger to Roxas' lips and stroke his cheek softly. "It's all right, I forgive you, Roxanne, you didn't know…" He shifted himself on Roxas lap until he was facing the boy's feet, still sitting heavy on his waist. He toyed with the hem of the maid skirt absently. "Do you know why I dressed you in this?"

Roxas shook his head and forced his trembling legs to refrain from kicking. Riku couldn't see the shaking head, but he continued anyway, probably taking the silence as a no.

"It makes you much, much prettier… I hate it when you're pretending to be a boy, you know?"

Roxas couldn't hide the confused horror on his face – what the hell was wrong with this kid? He was a boy… dress or not!

"Something nice and frilly only seemed appropriate. The nylons help, too." He shifted himself down Roxas' body with his legs, until he was sitting just above Roxas' knees. "I picked them out myself, you know, because they matched this outfit and…" Riku trailed off, taking the pause to lift and bend Roxas' lower leg towards his lap, examining the nylon-clad foot. "You have really… elegant feet." He absently ran a hand over the bottom, causing Roxas to instinctively jerk and let out a choked noise. Riku smiled. "You have really sensitive feet." He began to massage the feet gently, cooing at the soft giggles and occasional accidental moan he pried from Roxas' lips.

"I…" The blonde tried to shift in his bonds, face flushing when he realized the treatment was getting him hard. "I don't, um…"

Riku twisted a bit to the back, still smiling. "You don't…?" He turned onto his stomach, and made to lay his head in Roxas' lap—but his hand brushed against Roxas' growing erection and he suddenly wrenched himself off the bed with a muffled curse.

Roxas watched as he stalked behind him, and he heard the opening of a drawer—and saw Riku standing next to the bed, a silver switchblade open and in hand.

"Wha—"

"Shut the fuck up." Riku's voice was low and deadly, a contrast from the soft cooing from moments before. "Just… shut the fuck up. What the hell is your problem, Roxanne?"

Roxas growled again and—he was sure he'd regret it, but he was too pissed and angry and scared to hold it back—bit out, "My name is Roxas, you sick fuck! Let me go!" He kicked harshly at the bed sheets and tried to wiggle out of whatever was wrapped around his hands.

He stilled immediately when he felt the cold metal of the switchblade against his throat, digging in hard enough to let blood bubble up around it.

"I didn't want to hurt you, Roxanne, but you're being a very, very bad girl. You know you're not supposed to bring one of those into the house…"

Roxas blinked from behind tears—fuck he didn't want to die—and gasped as Riku was suddenly sitting heavily on his waist, facing his feet and hand lifting the skirt to expose his cock, once again limp.

He began to struggle again when Riku gripped his cock painfully with one hand, and he began babbling (Pleasedon'tpleasefuckI'lldowhateveryouwantpleasefuckfuckFUCK) when he felt a strange, sharp sensation pressing against him.

"Shhh," Riku said, voice once again soft. "It'll only hurt for a little while, I promise, then you'll be all better…"

Roxas choked past a scream and his head throbbed him into darkness.

"Roxanne…"