Title: Bad days
Pairing: Axel/Demyx
Theme set: A-6 Wrath
Rating: R for implications and violence.
Demyx could tell that Axel was having a very, very bad day as soon as he walked in the room. His eyes were blazing and he reeked of burnt leather. You could tell that just by looking at him sideways that he would completely flip out. Demyx had felt the fire mage's flames before; he had no desire to upset him again. He kept his eyes glued on the magazine he had been looking at before Axel's entrance. But oddly enough, the articles didn't keep his attention. He was waiting.
The sitarist noticed the air becoming much more humid, and he looked up, seeing Axel examining a wound, his jacket lying crumpled on the floor, revealing a tight chest and abs, sinewy muscles flexing. It made Demyx moan appreciatively, softly, but just loudly enough. Axel's head shot up, as quickly as a dart, those blazing iris' staring straight at the water mage. Demyx gulped visibly. He should never have looked up. His first mistake.
Demyx's magazine was quickly thrown across the room, the Flurry crawling slowly on top of him, pushing him down on the mattress. He brought the sitarist's head up sharply, bruising their lips in a violent kiss that caused Demyx to wince. His skin was burning at contact with Axel's, the grip the fire wielder had on his arm leaving dark welts already. Axel's nails raked down his chest, leaving angry streaks, his nips and bites leaving purple bruises everywhere he went. Demyx's eyes were already welling up, a single tear flowing down his cheek, a light protest escaping his lips.
The water mage could hear Axel's growl, a flame lighting itself on the redhead's fingertip, right next to his face. It was dangerously close to his smooth cheek, and both could see the simmer it made. Axel had a fire whose temperature could not be matched. The blonde whimpered, struggling to get away from the burning fire. It brushed against his face, causing him to scream. Demyx's tear had long since evaporated, heavy breaths and wide eyes announcing his panic.
"Don't make a sound or you'll regret it."
Demyx' face burned, a vivid pink slash appearing. The blonde was trembling, but Axel didn't care. He just took the shaking form, thrusting into him dry, using him for passion that was angrier than his mood. Axel had his fingers laced through Demyx's hair, pulling roughly on gelled locks. Demyx cried some more, but Axel didn't care. It didn't matter now, in this moment. The sitarist had his eyes closed tight, face scrunched up, thoughts praying to escape the wrath.
Demyx hated when Axel had bad days.