Age And Treachery
Warning: Axel is vulgar. But we love him anyway, right?
Disclaimer: Not mine!
Youth and speed will always be beaten by age and treachery.
His eyes were tracking him from their black couch, one of the only two pieces of furniture in Axel's humble little white abode, and Roxas was getting...antsy.
Having seen Roxas actually dance around an ant's nest when he found out that his Keyblades weren't actually able to kill something that small, regardless of whether or not they were crawling into his cloak, Axel knew how dangerous Roxas was when he was antsy.
And the muscles were moving; ooh, the muscles. Did he mention that the Organization standard was a black vest without a cloak? He didn't? Understandable, since he was...currently losing his train of thought as he watched Roxas shift from muscly leg to muscly leg and...was that sweat, beading down his cheek? Ooh.
Axel resolved to make him sweat more. Heat first, the fiery way, and then when Roxas jumped him out of his sheer magnetic attraction, the other way.
Fire first.
The fire in his fireplace, the other piece of furniture, flared brighter for a miniscule second before settling into a whiter heat.
As the flame was behind Roxas, he couldn't see it change, although he could certainly feel the difference.
He glared at Axel. That glare was cold enough to lower the room back to the original temperature. ...At least until he started sweating again and Axel's stare trailed a little off to the left and down the arch of that neck.
Was he drooling? He might've been. Oops.
And why was Roxas standing here and glaring at him again? Oh right. Getting him into trouble with the Superior, yadda yadda yadda. No biggie, right? So why was Roxas restricting his sex privileges? Unfair. Desperately unfair.
"Aw, come on, Roxas, you know it's more comfortable down here with me. And I know you're desperate for some company..."
Roxas' tone was still as acidic as ever, albeit slightly more annoyed this time. "No, Axel. No means no. And since the Superior's making me stay away from the Hall of Empty Melodies until the Dusks and Creepers have finished repairing it, I'm going to stay right here and be just out of reach. So you can think about what you're not getting because you got me in trouble."
The logic was...tangled, to say the least, and Axel preferred burning through the Gordian Knot whenever possible anyway. He reached out a hand, and Roxas scooted backwards.
"Aww, come on, Roxas..."
"No." Those eyes, they were firm, but then again, Axel wasn't watching his eyes. There were other parts of his body that were firm. Like his wrists. Which were twitching as if they were about to summon Keyblades.
Good. That meant that Axel had gotten to him.
No, Axel knew he wasn't thinking clearly, either, but it'd been a week. A week! A week since Roxas' restricted him, and when you've been doing it daily for the past month your body, heartless or not, demands sex and demands it now.
Hell, he was showing his erection through the Organization cloak, and that was...was bloody hard to do, that's what.
Alright. He let his eyes narrow a bit as he judged the distance between Roxas and the door, sure that he could rile Roxas up enough for him to not think to use a portal. Or arouse him. Y'know, either way. They'd both definitely work.
His lips twitched, and he watched in satisfaction as Roxas flinched, his eyes flicking everywhere to try to find Axel's latest 'surprise'.
Axel licked his lips.
Roxas shivered.
Axel licked his lips again.
Roxas shivered some more, his hair quivering and bobbing, for just a moment before he lost all expression and the hair became stiff and straight.
"Y-you're not getting me like that, Axel," the crack in his voice was definitely not convincing and he winced, one eye closing in that cute, unique, Roxas way, his fists clenched and ready to summon Keyblades in case Axel jumped him then.
Axel waited.
Roxas kept his eyes closed, slowly opening one and then opening the other one, surprised.
"You're not jumping me?"
Joyful. He actually sounded...disappointed.
"Nah. You've already said you're not interested, why would I want to jump you?" and as Roxas' face closed down and his eyes showed a touch of hurt, Axel followed that up quickly. "...I'm happy just looking at you, is all."
The hurt went away, and Axel breathed a sigh of relief. He'd never seen Roxas cry, thank goodness, but if he ever did Axel would probably fall over his arse trying to do whatever Roxas wanted. Roxas was the most cynical bastard he'd ever met, but he was also the most vulnerable and goddamn if he was hot and Axel was not Larxene to take advantage of him. So.
Axel was a fighter, of course. And he could read Roxas' tension like his own flames. When the tension went out of his spine and he slouched a little, his knees locking and his arms dropping to his pockets, Axel waited.
When Roxas sucked on his bottom lip and plopped himself back down on the ground, just out of Axel's reach -- just; he'd tried -- Axel waited.
When that hair drooped, Axel waited.
When those gorgeous blue eyes, glorious in color -- if he ever got his flames to match that color he could die happy with his control -- closed, Axel waited.
When Roxas started to snore, he waited.
Three, two, one.
Axel pounced.
Instantly Roxas was standing, grin ready and Keyblades out in each hand. He dodged Axel's flying tackle, and Axel sighed, rolling to his feet and hauling out his chakrams.
"Why does everything have to be a fight with you?"
"Because makeup sex is bette--ulp." Roxas stopped himself, wide-eyed.
At last, Axel thought, happily. I've corrupted him!
Screwing his face up into a grimace, Roxas threw himself over, and Axel backed up in a curving spiral, one step at a time, circling the room. Roxas laughed at him, bright and lively and vital, and the air clashed and crashed with the sound of metal on metal.
"You're going down!" Roxas said, his Keyblades blurring faster and faster, and after a while it started taking on all the characteristics of a spar, to the point where Roxas forgot how close he wasn't supposed to let Axel get.
Axel suppressed the urge to just reach out and run his hand down Roxas' spine. There'd be a bigger reward at the end if he just waited...
Oh, hell. Why not? He knew what he was going to do, anyway, so the next time Roxas came in for a strike Axel whirled the chakram at him, and Roxas twisted to the side. Axel ran his now free hand down his spine and smiled in satisfaction as Roxas twisted back to face him, spine straight and his bare arms rippling with goosebumps, his smooth lips in a pout.
"That's not fair, Axel!"
"Life's not fair, Roxas. Hey!" he ducked, Roxas' Oblivion swishing above his head and nearly cutting off his hair.
"Life's not fair, Axel," Roxas mocked, and then he ducked as Axel's returning chakram whistled back towards him from the opposite side of the room.
"C'mon, Roxas, can't keep up with an old man like me?"
"You're..." he was beginning to pant now, with the speed his Keyblades were moving at, still trying to attack Axel, "...not that much older than me!"
Axel overextended, and then his arms were brushing Roxas', and his breath hissed into his throat and there was an anticipation in his throat and in his stomach, and then that was twitching into his pants and there was energy there, and he could feel it growing hotter like fire, like the very best fire.
Ah...um. If this chase went on much longer he didn't think he'd be able to hold out.
Time for his masterstroke, then.
He backed himself away from his precious sofa, into a corner of the white marble room. Their footsteps, Roxas' eager footsteps, tapped as he slipped closer and closer to Axel. There was no way Axel was going to escape, and finally Axel was going to be punished for Roxas' unjust punishment; and then the Keyblade swept down.
And met only air. Roxas' hastily opened eyes registered a dark portal.
And there were iron-strong arms around his waist, and there were chakrams disarming him but he couldn't quite muster up the energy to disagree with that, and then his Keyblades were clattering off to the corner of the room, maybe under the sofa, along with Axel's chakrams, and their clothes, and really, Axel was much too skinny and tall for someone like Roxas -- heck, he had to stand on tiptoes to kiss him, and that was just too much.
One week without sex.
...Heck, just being around Axel was like setting a Fira off in your pants. Somehow incredibly perverted, but at the same time Axel knew what he was doing and did he make any sense but did it really matter and ooh.
Ooh.
The walls are cold.
"What'd I do to deserve this, Axel? Your walls are freezing." He should know; his chest and one cheek are being pressed to that wall, Axel's warm, burning presence behind him, and there are hands, smooth hands, sliding up from his lower back upwards, and it's like a massage only not, because it's better, and --
Axel shrugs. "I'll just have to warm you up then, won't I," and there are kisses down his neck, chapped lips that smell of smoke from behind him, fire-warmed down his neck and down his bare back, and he feels a bead of sweat roll towards his eye and there is a rough tongue there, moving quickly to absorb it, and ohh, Axel, ooh, keep going.
He can't think of what he was meant to be restricting Axel from. He just doesn't want him to stop.
And then Axel is sidling around him, but his hands are staying still, and all Roxas can see is green eyes and feel roughened, textured lips on his own and they are smoky and rich, and there is a tongue! and that tongue is very goo--
Mm.
Yep, Axel smiled, arm curled around his little muscular blond in his lap and bouncing a knee gently. Age and treachery always beats youth and speed.
"Hm-mm. Axel?" Roxas stirs from from he is, locking green eyes into his own world.
"Whassup?" They are sprawled on his couch, naked and not really moving, just content to stay there for a while after the haze clears from their minds.
"Can you turn up the fire a bit more? I'm cold."