disclaimer: if kingdom hearts were mine, it's be so full of smex, you'd have to put the kiddies to bed before you could even open the game case.

allergy warnings: shotacon, cussing, yaoi, under-age sex/statutory rape. akuroku. (dont like it, please dont bother me. blame god. HE created it. D: )

Lollipops

Roxas strolled down the street, walking calmly and happily, a lollipop hanging out the corner of his mouth. It was cherry, his favorite. As he walked down the street, he had the red-and-white wrapper paper crinkling in his hand, wondering whether or not he should chuck it into the next bush he saw. The idea was very enthralling, but at the same time, a small little voice bounced around in the back of his head. "Don't do it! It's littering! Recycle it!" Needless to say, this voice was very annoying and Roxas was beginning to flirt with the idea of creating something out of it—a small paper crane, perhaps?—before he chucked it into a trashcan. Roxas didn't think about how he totally didn't know origami, just the fact that he'd have something to do with the wrapper.

So, as Roxas strolled down the street, calm and happy, sucking on a cherry lollipop, wondering what to do with a wrapper, he found himself walking further away from where he'd said he'd go, and, instead, in the completely opposite direction, to the worse parts of town, where druggies and convicts would hang out in the alleyways, laughing loudly and flirting with girls as they walked by, every single one of them willing to do anything they could for a buck or two, or maybe even a snort of coke, depending on what you wanted and who you asked. This was exactly what his parents didn't want out of him, even though Roxas had found himself comfortable in the run-down side of his town, especially with the outsider kids, the ones who couldn't roll in a gang since they were too weak, but couldn't stay alone because they were too volatile. They were the ones who knew how to have fun and when, even if their definition of "fun" wasn't always legal.

Roxas liked the run-down side. The prissy, well-kept side—where he lived—was too boring, too expectant for someone they knew to become the next friggin' president or something like that to even worry or care about the actual well-being of the next generation. In the worse side, sure the parents didn't care, but, at least there, kids knew how to kick back and relax, how to escape the crushing reality of their every-day life, how to run from police (or any other threats) for ten city blocks before needing to stop and rest. Everything Roxas wanted to know was all there, and everything he hated and wanted to leave behind was always waiting for him at the end of the day. That was why Roxas loved spending hours and hours in the alleyways, sometimes spending the night with the other kids, laying in an empty parking lot and trading stories or sleeping in a field, careful not to be caught by officers or the owner of the land.

It was also where he ran into him.

Roxas wasn't expecting it—but, then again, whoever expects to run into someone?—but he walked face-on into, well, the face of the astonishingly handsome redhead who'd just happened to be as preoccupied with something as Roxas had been with his candy wrapper. Roxas' forehead collided with the other person's jaw, causing both of them to shout out in shock and pain, also sending Roxas tumbling backwards onto the ground. He bit down onto his lollipop so that it wouldn't fall to ground and get all dirty with sand and gravel and god knows what else. The other man was apparently more stable than Roxas, seeing as he only stumbled back one step before regaining his balance.

"Who the fuck ran into me?" the man roared, rubbing his jaw in a very clichéd way, like how you see done in movies when the actor doesn't know how to show the pain that he's apparently going through.

Roxas snapped his eyes open to stare at the person he just basically attacked. He had a very shocking look, one that Roxas had never seen before and would probably never see again, what with his pale, pale, pale, almost unhealthily pale skin; his surprising emerald eyes, narrow and cat-like, all the while still glittering like a gem as it was hidden behind a thick frame of feminine, dark eyelashes; his bright, bright, blindingly bright red hair, but not the one that people say is cute on little kids, the kind where it looked more crimson than red, more like blood and the color of the checkers on the shirt Roxas was wearing, not like orange, which is more natural; his dark tattoos—or, at least, that's what Roxas thought they were—underneath both of his eyes, looking like upside-down tear drops, each of them a dark green, in contrast with his pale skin.

The man eyed Roxas with his jade eyes, narrowing them until they were only slits. "What's your name?" he asked, repeating his earlier question more politely, which struck Roxas as odd, since it seemed like this man wasn't the kind who'd take crap from anyone or give a shit about anyone.

Roxas hesitated before responding. You had to be careful with your name and other personal information when you were on the streets, because, even if the kid seems nice enough, you can never see someone's rap sheet from their face or attitude, so that kid you thought was nice and maybe even cute might actually be a convicted felon on an attempted murder charge. "Roxas," he answered after a moment.

The man grinned, half-amused and half-something else. "Pleasure."

And then he began walking. Roxas quickly stood up and started following him, although he didn't exactly know the reason why, but it might've had something to do with the way he'd calmed down the second time he'd spoken to Roxas or maybe it was the way his emerald eyes were set against an almost-white backdrop and how beautiful they seemed when he'd looked down at Roxas, or maybe it might even be how Roxas felt like he could trust him because he'd never straight-out told somebody his name without spending at least an hour or two with them. Something about this man made Roxas want to follow, and Roxas always did what he wanted, so he followed.

The man seemed angry about Roxas' decision to follow him. Without turning around or even batting an eye, he asked quite loudly, "Are you sick or just a stalker?"

Roxas didn't say anything, quickening his pace to match the man's.

The man stopped and spinned around on his heel, making Roxas almost run into him again, which Roxas very narrowly avoided by taking a step back from where he'd stood. Roxas stared into the redheaded man's eyes, something annoyed sparking in the back of them, fear sprouting in Roxas' own aquamarine eyes. They both stood in the position for a while as the man glanced up and down Roxas' body, which not only made him feel self-conscious, but it also made Roxas wished that he'd worn something else other than his black and red checkered t-shirt and his black jeans—which was odd, since Roxas never dressed up for anyone, and he'd actually dressed down for today, knowing that he'd be participating in a rumble with the other alleyway kids, so his clothes were actually in somewhat bad condition, ready to be torn and stained, which probably didn't help Roxas with his self-consciousness.

"Are you sick or a stalker?" the man asked again, narrowing his eyes back to the slits from before, making a chill run up Roxas' spine.

Roxas was at a loss for words. Which was, once again, odd because Roxas was always the first one to have a cocky or sarcastic comment in his neighborhood and ranking pretty high in the alleyways, always the first one to make someone feel bad about themselves or make a joke out of someone's insecurities, and always, always able to talk back into someone's face, no matter age or official ranking.

"Or maybe…" the man smiled, the sight so beautiful despite the malice and seething sarcasm behind it that it surprised Roxas. "You've fallen in love with me."

Roxas gasped out in protest, his face flooding with heat, almost dropping his lollipop, which he avoided by quickly shutting his mouth. "Of course not!" he shouted out, anger mixing with embarrassment, although he had no idea why. "You're a jerk!"

The man pouted, pushing out his lower lip in such a way that it made Roxas want to kiss it—which only surprised him further—and his eyebrows raised like he was thinking over everything and wasn't pleased with the situation he was in, or like he'd just been told a mildly unpleasant surprise. "Too bad," he said, his voice sad or sorrowful in someway, maybe even amused. "Because, you're so damn cute."

And he kissed Roxas. It was quick, faster than Roxas knew a kiss could be, but it was deep and intense and better than any kiss Roxas had given out or allowed to happen before in his lifetime. When the man lifted his face, Roxas' dear cherry lollipop was hanging out of his mouth, the actually cherry part in the air, the man biting on to the white stick.

"Too bad you're just a little kid," the man said, laughing, infuriating Roxas while still further embarrassing him to the point where Roxas' face was to close resemblance of an apple or tomato or some other red fruit or vegetable or whatever tomatoes are nowadays.

Roxas felt the need to end all of this, so he settled for the easiest way; he threw out his hand to grab his lollipop again so that he could continue on his trek to the alleyways where he'd be able to tell all of his buddies the totally weird incident that'd just happened to him and then laugh about it so that he'd forget it so that he and the others could prepare themselves for the rumble which everyone was sure would end up in at least a broken nose and black eye.

Unfortunately, the man had other ideas. He threw his hand out to prevent Roxas from taking another step or getting closer to him, and he also twisted his face away so that his grin with the lollipop was even further away from Roxas' reach, keeping his cat-like eyes on Roxas' face all the while, making sure to catch his irritated-embarrassed expression turn into others, like shock, anger and then mortification.

"Pedophile!" Roxas shouted out, yelling the first thing that came into his mind. No one around them reacted, because, well, they were in the slums, making people used to hearing other people call out names, most frequently "bitch", "slut", "motherfucker" and "bastard", and even though "pedophile" didn't top the list, "pervert" did, which was close enough that no one cared. Roxas didn't even know the man's age, yet he had to be over eighteen, what with his height and his face, and even if it had some sort of teenage sarcastic spark behind it all, his face was more matured than kids Roxas' age and was more sharpened and angled, looking more like a twenty-five year old, ten years older than Roxas was. That kiss was obviously a pedophilic act, no matter how you looked at it.

The man smiled wider. "That's mean, kid," he said, his voice joking. "All I did was kiss you."

Roxas growled at the man, wanting to shout in his face, but wanting to kiss him again, despite his earlier word and the aggravation he was feeling.

"If you want your lollipop," the man said, chuckling at the last word, apparently amused at how Roxas was acting and what he had almost attacked him for. "Just take it."

And he leaned forward, still grinning, the lollipop hanging out of the edge of his mouth, all of the cherry goodness teasing Roxas, taunting him, making him think that kissing the pedophile wouldn't be that bad since he did want to do it and he did want his lollipop and he did want to get this all over with so that he wouldn't have to ever see the man's face again, no matter how beautiful and handsome he was, no matter how his eyes made Roxas go weak in his knees and no matter how much Roxas wanted to run his hands through the man's bright red hair.

So, Roxas did it. He leaned in to bite the edge of the lollipop so that he would be able to quickly turn around and run away, but the man didn't allow that. As soon as their lips met for the second time and Roxas bit down on the lollipop, the man apparently took it into his own jurisdiction to make sure that Roxas wouldn't let go, and he ended up wrapping his arms around Roxas' neck, keeping him in place as he opened his mouth, separating the lips, forcing Roxas' lips to do the same. But, he wasn't forcing Roxas to open his lips, because as soon as that blonde felt the man's lips open, he did the same, allowing the poor, poor, cherry lollipop to fall to the floor and be stepped on by the man when he took a step forward to close the gap in-between Roxas and himself.

As their tongues played, the realization that this man, this pedophile was kissing him finally struck Roxas. Hard. Harder than when his alleyway friend had hit him when he'd made fun of his beloved girlfriend who'd actually ended up leaving him three days later, earning Roxas another smack, only this one was more like the friend was angry and needed to blow off steam and Roxas just happened to be at the wrong place at the wrong time and saying the wrong thing to the wrong person, since, well, no one who'd just broken up with their girlfriend for two years wants to hear about how your mom told you she was too busy to care.

So, almost instantly, Roxas removed himself from the situation the only way he knew how—to just push yourself away from your kisser.

The man seemed a little surprised at first, then a smile grew on his face, mocking, joking, sardonic, amused and a whole bunch of other expressions Roxas didn't care to find out or sort through.

"Quite the kisser, kiddy," the man said, his last word sounding an awful lot like "cutie".

Roxas pursed his lips, mourning a little over the lost life of his cherry lollipop.

"You look like you enjoyed it," the man said, pointing out the blush on Roxas' face, smiling even wider when Roxas scowled at his gesture.

Roxas spoke slowly, not trusting his voice or the man. "My last kiss was with a horny dyke," he explained as calmly as he could, not wanting to look into the man's eyes but unable to look away. "Not exactly my type."

The man smiled wider, amusement flaming deeper in his emerald eyes. "So, twenty-one year old dudes are your type?"

Roxas pursed his lips again. So, he was only six years older than him, but, who cares, right? It was still pedophilia, and still oh, so very hot.

The man grinned even more wider, the smile threatening to split his face into two. "Want another lollipop? My treat."

"Pedophile," Roxas said, spitting out the word.

"I take that as a yes."

And the man grabbed Roxas' wrist and began walking, ignoring Roxas' rather loud protests and just kept walking to god knows where, all the while making Roxas wish that he'd never kissed the guy again, never followed him, never bumped into him, never been headed to the alleyway, never been preoccupied with the wrapper, and, finally, he wished that he'd never bought that goddamn cherry lollipop.

xXxXx

As the man half-dragged Roxas across town to what he called his "abode", all the while grinned like a madman at Roxas' protests and shouts of help which no one ever attended to, Roxas learned a bit about who this man was and why he was so hell-bent on raping a perfectly innocent young boy, although Roxas was truly nowhere near innocent. Turned out that the man was Axel—the man didn't let on with his last name, it was "too private" he said, laughing—the new owner of the liquor store down the street, something he inherited from his long-dead parents a few months ago, when he'd finally turned legal. The store was barely opened and only three of Roxas' alleyway friends knew about it, since most of his friends were his age, and those three weren't exactly legal themselves. Roxas made up his mind on the way to the liquor store that also doubled as Axel's fairly shitty apartment—this man was obviously a pedophile, more horny for kids beyond belief. But, God dammit, Roxas'd be lying if he said he wasn't attracted to him also, even though his entire being told him not to be, to be scared of this child molester, but his mind and his fucking libido told, no, more like, commanded him otherwise.

"Why me?" Roxas whined when they'd reached Axel's store. Axel grinned slyly in response, not letting go of Roxas' thin wrist, the grin sending shivers up the blonde's back.

"Because you're cute," Axel said simply, jerking open the front door; Roxas realized with a small shock that it had never been locked in the first place and immediately began thinking about why that would be, because this guy didn't seem like the person who'd just allow all of his stuff out in the open and ripe for the picking, especially in the slums, the place where people would try and rob a office building at ten in the morning.

Roxas stumbled along behind Axel as the older man walked quickly through the store to the back, up the flight of stairs and into a small, cramped bedroom, one that was barely big enough for a bed and a couch, which was exactly was in there, one small bed and one smaller couch, and the fact that the walls were white just made it seem smaller and made Roxas feel slightly claustrophobic.

Axel finally let go of Roxas, but only to push him onto the bed, and Roxas fell face-first into the oddly soft mattress.

"Why me?" Roxas repeated when he didn't feel or hear anything, surprisingly. His voice was coarse but soft, pleading but wanting. "Why so young?"

Roxas could hear the grin in the redhead's voice when he spoke again. "Because you tried for a second time, really. Besides," the voice got louder as Axel bent down, pressing his lips next to Roxas' ear, breathing his words into his skin, his breath hot and sticky. "Age doesn't matter to me."

Roxas bit his lip hardly, waiting for something painful, but he was met with a surprisingly non-painful and rather enjoyable alternative to what he'd been expecting; Axel had lifted Roxas' face slightly, cupping his rough hand on his chin and lifting it up so that their lips could meet again, his pale ones connecting with Roxas' rosy ones.

No one knew exactly what happened next, but both of them had a very good idea, albeit vague and blurry, but the same general idea was there, and even though Roxas wished he didn't remember, and Axel wished he'd never forget, it was both very clear in their minds that Roxas had wrapped his body around the older man's, not allowing him to break contact, not allowing Axel or Roxas to move, and definitely not allowing the doubts in his mind to re-appear.

They both remember how Axel had quickly proceeded to tear off Roxas' shirt and how Roxas didn't really care since they were meant to be torn anyway; how Roxas had fumbled with the buttons on Axel's shirt until Axel finally lost patience and ripped it off himself, the button Roxas was working on popping off and flying to the wall behind him; how Roxas had allowed his fingers to run up and down Axel's chest, tracing every dip and hollow, kissing every inch of skin; how Axel had fancily unbuttoned his pants as he did the same to Roxas and how the younger boy had let out a small yelp when Axel grabbed the growing bulge in his boxers; how Axel had slipped his fingers into Roxas' mouth and how Roxas and slowly sucked on every one of them, kissing the tip and circling them with his tongue; how Axel had cracked another sly grin when Roxas jerked down Axel's boxer's waistband and how he proceeded to do the same with Roxas.

There were arguments on the next part, but those were little details. They both agreed when they had to say that Roxas had thoroughly enjoyed how Axel has slipped the fingers that were previously in Roxas' mouth down the fifteen-year-old's side, and into him; how Axel had laughed when he'd told Roxas that it was "his turn"; how Roxas had started off awkwardly but ended up enjoying the moans and yelps from Axel when he'd bent down and continued on to wrap his rosy lips against Axel's length, slowly bobbing his head forward and backward and sliding his tongue around the tip; how Roxas had barely expected it but completely enjoyed it when Axel had released into him, the sticky white liquid sliding down from his mouth and off of his chin, dripping onto the floor beneath them.

And they both couldn't argue when it was said that Roxas had enjoyed it just as Axel did when he'd said the very words Axel had spoken to him just a few minutes ago, repeating the same cycle.

And as Roxas twisted and moaned from Axel's absurdly skilled tongue, he wondered just so very mildly if he should turn in this godly handsome, annoyingly talented, insanely brilliant pedophile for statutory rape, but instantly forgot that thought when he allowed himself to burst, Axel swallowing every bit of it, muttering the one word that made Roxas' skin shiver delightfully: "Delicious."

xXxXx

Roxas woke up the next morning, instantly wondering what had happened at the rumble and wondering if anyone would beat him up for missing it, then began thinking up ways to get out of it; maybe he could put on a few bandages or casts and pretend he'd already gotten into a fight on the way and was outnumbered—no, that wouldn't work, all alleyway kids were in the rumble and he'd only be able to get beaten up by an actual organized gang, but then they'd question his credibility, and his friend, the boss of his own group would probably go ask some of the big gang bosses and question them about the incident, and Roxas might actually end up with more than just a cast and a few cuts.

Then, the realization of what'd happened the day before struck him. Roxas frantically looked around the tiny room, searching for his beautiful pedophile.

"Axel!" Roxas shouted, the word slipping out of his mouth, sounding weird in his voice.

When there was no answer, Roxas quickly slipped out of Axel's small bed, feeling a tad bit awkward about that, slipped on his boxers and pants and stepped out of the tiny room, glancing around quickly, wondering what the layout of the place was, were Axel could be, what time it was and what he'd say to his parents if they'd noticed. Roxas flitted down the stairs, his legs oddly unstable, and ran into his gorgeous redhead, again.

"Holy shit, kiddy!" Axel shouted out, laughing and rubbing his jaw again. "Is your forehead a magnet to my face?"

Roxas just blushed and bit his lip.

Axel grinned, licking his lips a little, not even noticing that he'd done it, even though that one movement made Roxas want to push him down on the bed and lose his virginity all over again.

Axel ruffled Roxas' hair a little before speaking, his jade eyes twinkling and happy. "You still look sexy in the morning after; that's a very good attribute. You're gonna wanna keep that talent."

Roxas forced a smile in response, still blushing.

Axel bent and kissed Roxas on the lips, at first gently, then harder, more passionate. Roxas' hands flew up to pull the legal man to him, to kiss him harder and to enjoy every sinful moment of it all, until Axel lifted his face and smirked, pulling out something from his coat pocket.

"Here," Axel said, smiling wider, happier. "I'd promised."

Roxas grinned softly, wanting to kiss Axel again. "Pedophile," he whispered when he'd noticed what the object was. Then, he batted the object away and pulled the older man into a kiss, a very unlawful and a very hot one, one that left Roxas wondering if he'd ever go back to his parents or to the alleyways, if he'd ever leave his adult, legal, hottie with an absurd boy-version of a Lolita Complex. He smiled a little remembering what'd caused this all and what Axel's had given him—until he's thrown it away for a kiss instead, that is.

It was a cherry lollipop.