disclaimer: axel & demyx © [square enix]. Written for entertainment, not profit.
disposable.
"Nipple rings?"
Axel laughs, the zipper falling from his mouth to rest against Demyx's skin. The metal flickers in the not-light of the City. Burning, like the smirk Demyx could feel grazing too lightly down his neck.
"I didn't think"—down to his collarbone, breath and voice teasing a moan from his throat—"you were into things like that."
Axel looks up, eyes glittering like cheap glass, a promise (or maybe not, because he never kept, never made promises) so obscene, so twisted that Demyx almost shivers in spite of the heat from Axel's body. "You're going to catch hell if Xemnas finds out," he says, trailing the fingertips of one hand up, up, too slowly.
That was strange in itself, because Axel was never like this, drawing out these few minutes after a mission until neither of them could stand it.
But who was he to complain? So Demyx smirks, tugs sharply on the chain dangling from Axel's coat, jerking the redhead downward, farther. "Hey, I'm just trying them out. And what, are you telling me to trust—fuck!" he yelps at the sudden flash of pain as teeth find skin and metal. "Don't do that, Axel! It really—" his words dissolve in a shaky breath, disappearing with a casual swipe of Axel's tongue.
"Sorry, you were saying?"
So typical of him to never listen.
"Like you're going to remember," Demyx replies after what he considers a dignified silence, reaching up past leather and slick skin to tangle his fingers in rusty spikes.
He more or less feels rather than hears Axel's chuckle. "What are you talking about? Just for you, I'll memorize it," Axel says, spreading his lips in a grin and moving off the piercing with a practiced flicker.
No, not quite, you never do, Demyx wants to say but he can't, unable to swallow another moan as, with the same harsh lightness, Axel pushes Demyx's coat from his shoulders and raises his head, his mouth to the bared skin.
Well then: "If you're going to do that, couldn't you've picked somewhere else—ah, no, there—" Demyx's grip tightens on Axel's hair, and he's rewarded with a soft hiss and Axel tensing against him for a brief second before relaxing, his fingers back to tantalizing down Demyx's sides.
"You don't like it?" Axel almost pouts, or maybe it's just a stray shadow that Demyx has no time to think about in the moments between the sharp kisses to his neck. "There's so much ambiance; all the ghosts creeping through the streets, you know?"
"You're so morbid," Demyx breathes, his free hand fumbling with Axel's zipper, pulling it down to the other's hips. Axel's skin is unmarked, saved for faint scars that become transparent as soon as they're exposed to the light. "There's no such thing as ghosts around here."
Axel raises an eyebrow and makes a show of glancing behind him, to the street that stretches long and dark and seemingly without end, before turning back to Demyx, the bright glass of his eyes shadowed by something Demyx is unfamiliar with. "No? Maybe you're right," he says, lips barely touching Demyx's.
"Maybe they all left."
And then he crushes Demyx's mouth to his, the kiss so familiar for all of its savage, quick want. Finally.
"Nobody would miss them, after all."