God, I started this months ago and I only just finished it a few days ago. How sad is that?
I own no characters portrayed in this story.
Always late into the night, when all the rest are asleep, she sneaks into his room. Awake or asleep, he is aware of her presence as she slips into his bed. He inhales her scent of fresh lemons, feels her warm breath against his ear and the light brush of her fingertips against his muscled stomach. He rolls over and finds her shadowed green eyes watching him like a hungry cat ready to pounce on an unsuspecting morsel of a mouse. He watches her grinning reactions carefully as he touches her, his hands sliding over her curves, feeling the soft silken material that covers her body between his fingers. He knows this black and red kimono well. He had gotten it for her as a gift in the Land of Dragons some time before. It had now become almost a costume in their nighttime encounters.
Her soft lips brush his jaw and trail teasing, feather light kisses down his neck. His hands grip her hips and pull her small body close to his. Despite the outward appearances, there is no genuine affection in their intimate touches and strokes. That kind of connection is impossible for their kind. Physical touch, sensations and stimulation are their one escape from darkness, the closest they can truly come to feeling whole once again. There is and can be no love between them, despite what once was. All that exists now is their pawing lust for one another.
Both Nobodies strike suddenly: mouths locking, hands groping and scratching as the little clothing they are wearing is stripped away, exposing new and secret flesh. There is nothing gentle about their interactions now. His teeth find her shoulder, biting down hard enough that he can taste metallic salt on his tongue. She makes a sound that is a cross between a groan and a snarl. Her sharp nails pierce the flesh of his back, raking them downward and leaving bloody scratches in their wake. The bed creaks under their shifting weights.
Her fingers tangle in his thick hair and grip it at the roots, tugging hard enough for him to see stars. With a soft growl that completely contradicts his usual gentlemanly manner, he grips her hips tighter and kisses and bites his way across her collarbone. She gives a sharp cry and claws her nails down his back, scratching through his thick dark hair and leaving long, bleeding scratch marks. He groans and kisses her full on her already bruised lips, his large hand gripping the back of her neck to hold her still. She responds to his touch and moves her hands from his back to his face, holding his lips firmly on hers as their tongues probe and explore and eager sounds of pleasure emitting from both of them.
Then it all ceases with a single word. "Stop."
To his surprise he does. With an uncharacteristic air of calm about her, she slips out from under him and pulls on her robe over her bruised, scratched back. She stands as she ties the sash around her slender waist and lets the smooth silk once again fall over her bare thighs. He watches her with subdued eyes as she smoothes her blonde hair back and walks toward the door.
With dramatic flourish she turns in the open doorway, one hip cocked to the side and her hand planted on the frame, and grins wickedly. "Honestly, you're so whipped it's not even funny."
As his mind clears he manages a smirk. "And you're a bitch but you don't hear me complaining." She laughs and sends a flirty wink in his direction, popping her left leg into the air with girlish glee.
"You know you love it. Now, get the hell out of bed before I make it to my room and start without you." In a flash of yellow she's gone, racing down the vacant hallway. He's up in a second, dressed in loose cotton pants and racing after her. This is another part of their game, chasing instead of teleporting, getting the adrenaline pumping. It always made the evenings so much more fun to see if he could catch her before her before she reached her room.
As a door slams another opens. Still half asleep and dressed in his flame retardant black boxers, Axel drowsily looks down at the tiny blond girl in a thin white nightgown standing just outside his room. In her arms she holds a pillow and a heavy blanket drags behind her. The sober expression on her face tells him all he needs to know.
"It's Larxene and Xaldin's 'game night', isn't it, Namine?"
Namine nods.
"C'mon in." He steps aside and ushers her into his room, the blanket dragging behind her shuffling feet. "Roxas is already hiding out in here after Luxord and Xigbar invited him to play naked twister." The door closes behind him and once again the castle is silent.
For those still reading, I am currently working on new chapters of "Parenthood", "The Wizard That Never WOZ" and "Gone". These stories are NOT abandoned, I've just been very busy with school and other commitments.
Hope you all enjoyed the borderline smut!
