T-this is one of those fics where you debate on posting it, and then finally just say screw it. Yeah. Not mine, because…well, yeah.
Pretty boy always ran.
Ran to save his friends, the girl in the darkness coma and the boy who tastedlookedfelt like darkness himself. He ran to save them and found other friends who ran with him, following his skinny, tan little legs wherever he went.
Pretty boy always ran.
He ran to save the princesses, all held captive in the castle of darkness where the witch was waiting, all dragon-breath-flames and mocking words. He ran to his best best best friend, begged him to stop this, and ran to eventually save him from his own choices.
Pretty blue-eyed boy always ran.
He ran to the coma girl, held her close and knew, knew that she was gone right then and his thoughts were running a mile a minute and he was all but left behind, save for thinking I'm tired of running. The boy ran himself through with the Keyblade of darkness, saved all the princesses and then—
--Roxas ranranran, though he didn't know where to, all he knew was that he had to get away from those things that meant pain and death. Disoriented and nauseous, he ran, hiding behind a wall and hoping that they would move oil-slick around him, leave him behind so he wouldn't have to run.
No luck for the pretty running boy. Golden eyes fixed on him, drawn by the not-heart yet the taste of it promised to be still sweet, like an apple that fell to the ground- only gotta pick out that nasty worm and cut away the bruised patches.
Thing was, Roxas was tired of running- didn't know he'd been doing it his whole life, only knew he'd been doing it for his whole not-life and he was done with it. Two blades flashed into his hands and quickly, fluidly he ran those creatures through and jerked his head up when there was a steady stream of clapping from off to the side.
For a while, he stopped running. He wore the coat like a good little boy, did what he was told and only asked the smallest amount of questions; he gathered his information from idle, wagging tongues and manipulation rather than direct demands. It was when Axel pinned him to a wall and grinned down at him, white teeth flashing and acid-green eyes bright that Roxas' heart started running again (away) and he returned the favor, pushing Axel against the wall instead.
Pretty blond boy with electric-blue eyes, his heart was running a mile a minute while he was fucking Axel up against a wall; his heart was running up stair after stair. When Axel placed a hand over his empty chest and laughed, his head tilted to the side as if it were some great joke, he only offered the explanation that "your heart's running again, up, up, up."
Roxas ran for the last time, out of the dark city, away from VIII and the rest of their damned fates, off to make his own. He ran into another boy running, and stopped him, only to find Axel standing there, clapping once more before the world melted into heatfirepain.
Roxas woke up and couldn't feel anything.
"Can't run anymore," Axel said quietly, trailing a finger down pretty-boy's throat, ignoring the soft curse and groan of pain. "Can't run, gotta stay." A grin like a razor when he placed a hand over Roxas' heart. "You heart's stopped running. Fate's a fucking bitch."
Roxas cursed him, expletives running from his mouth, but knew he couldn't run anymore, not from the way Axel was sliding his hands down his thighs and then they stopped- hitting only i air. /i "Didn't like running anyway, bastard," he bit out. "Been doing it all my life."
Again written for the kink meme. Ten million points if you get who the heart is, and the end. If you favorite/alert/whatever, and if you read, please drop me a line and tell me what you thought?