Author: Keuraki-SoraXRiku

Disclaimer: I don't own Kingdom Hearts, no, but that's okay, because i own this fan fic and it can fill in for that big gapping hole in my heart.

This is a one-shot, and i haven't planned writing a sequel, but the idea is forming in my head and it might possibly (or probably) happen XD.

Well, enjoy! (and review, please, but i don't want to sound desperate so just ignore i ever said this =D)


To Hate Alarm Clocks

He was going to fall asleep. He was going to make himself fall asleep, because this was ridiculous, and he wasn't going to put up with it anymore. He turned his head, slightly, felt the lethargy in the muscles in his neck, and he could just barely make out the numbers 3:28am through half-closed eyelids, numbers blurry and dancing in front of his gaze in a ballet of fatigue and tears. Sora groaned.

This was stupid. Sora shouldn't have been acting like this, shouldn't have to put up with this, because all Riku did was kiss him for goodness sake; it wasn't even intense enough to be called making out, but still, every single time Sora closed his eyes some image of Riku kissing him or Riku on top of him or Riku confessing his love to him popped up and his heart would do something that would have resembled a flip, if Sora could see it, and he wouldn't be able to fall asleep.

Riku had kissed him. Riku had kissed him, Sora, and just the thought and the memory of his touch made Sora shiver slightly, his heart pump just a little faster, lips curve up just a little higher so that he was wearing something like a smile, but wasn't really because he was too tired to make it look like one.

Sora huffed at the nether space between his wall and his alarm clock, blinked (and nearly forgot how to open his eyes, but an image of Riku kissing his jaw brought him back to something like consciousness), and decided that, hey, he might as well get up if he wasn't going to sleep.

Of course, his muscles denied this request and kept him firmly on his mattress, heavy and painful and burning, in places (and behind the fatigue Sora had to worry about that). Sora instead opted for scowling up at the ceiling, mumbling, and decided then that he would close his eyes and keep them closed, because these fantasies of Riku weren't all that bad, and maybe he could indulge in two or three or five before this lack of sleep drove him insane.

Sora liked this idea.

* * *

He was asleep, he was sure, because pictures that made no sense danced in front of his eyes and confused him; colours and light and a salty breeze, something soft and sweet against his lips, warm, a movement and press, and he tilted his head to press and linger against lips that were on his, caressing, so soft; hesitant and unsure but god did it feel so good, so right. And somewhere in the back of his head he felt relief to that fact that he was asleep, finally, but that was promptly ignored when Sora felt the slide of a tongue against his lips, begging him, and who cared if he was asleep or not, anyway?

And the kiss grew hungry, then, the light press now deep and strong and no longer was there that hesitation, that holding back, and Sora tangled his hands in the warm t-shirt fabric he was flush against and murmured into the kiss as warm hands made their way up his back and to the base of his neck, holding him fast and secure and rubbing tingling little circles against heating skin.

"Riku", he murmured, breaking away from the kiss only to find lips trailing down to his neck, soft kisses teasing, lingering, making him want to moan out and clutch Riku to him and grind their hips together until they were withering and panting each other's names but no, not yet, that was too fast, too soon.

A slight movement and then Riku was licking behind his ear lobe; tongue lapping, just slightly, and that made Sora shiver and clutch tighter and an approving (and completely involuntary) moan escaped him, but he didn't care because Riku was trailing his lips along his jaw, now, back to the kiss, and Sora could feel that smirk against his cheek.

"Riku," he moaned, suddenly, because Riku's hand was trailing along his belt, lower, and Sora could feel his hand glide against there, right there, and he shivered, clutched onto Riku tighter and kissed him harder, and that hand was not really touching but he could still feel it, still feel its heat and presence through the denim and Sora wanted so bad to just thrust into that touch and make it a rub, but Riku had already moved his hand higher, up to his navel and he was pushing up Sora's shirt, now, hands trailing on his skin and mmmn, that was nice, but Sora missed that presence and wanted to make that clear.

In one swift movement Sora thrusted against Riku, held in his moan, and Riku chuckled, rubbed against Sora and then this time Sora couldn't hold in the moan and it came out as a hiss of breath and a soft ah, blood pulsing in his ears a repetitive yes yes yes, and Riku groaned against his lips and thrusted again, harder, and Sora gasped.

And just as Riku started to undo Sora's belt, they were rudely interrupted by a blearing beeping sound, and to Sora's utter dismay the picture of them pressed together so deliciously dissolved into the nothingness of something that wasn't black and wasn't empty but it was something, he was sure, he did not like.

Sora opened his eyes to intense sunlight and louder beeping, and with a little too much force banged his alarm clock with his fist and groaned, looking up at the ceiling and rubbing sleep out of his eyes. The knot lower than his stomach informed him that he would need a long, hot shower this morning, preferably before his little sister bounced into his room to inform him that breakfast was ready, and somewhere behind the drowsiness of his brain he noted that this really, really sucked, and he really, really wanted that dream to continue. Soon.

"Dammit."

(And he could have sworn he could hear Riku chuckle in the distance, but he wasn't in the mood for hallucinations).