Author's Note: Okay. Let me just say, I hate writing these. However, for this particular fic, a few preliminaries are decidedly in order.

Firstly. This fic will involve lemon, or, in other words, explicit sexual content. This fic will involve slash - so, that's explicit sexual content between males. Finally, this fic will involve noncon. Three words: Explicit. Male. Rape. (And torture. Can't forget torture.)

Not for you? That's fine, just consider yourself warned in advance. Hit the back button and get on with your life.

If it IS your thing, though, please do review. This is my first lemon. Don't be gentle. I've proofread this bad boy for flow and quality until I can no longer stand looking at it anymore, so let me know if something isn't to your liking, and I'll certainly give it a once-over again.

Thanks.

...By the way, just in case you doubted the fact, I do not own Kingdom Hearts. I am, however, saving up for it, and donations are always welcome. or credit are accepted. Blank checks will also do nicely.

That said, thank you, and enjoy the show.

"That's not true… I would."

Axel slumped, his eyes fixed on Roxas' back as the boy strode calmly down the street. Looking at his retreating form, he noticed the hurried assurance of his movements, the forward tilt of his hips, the cocky set of his shoulders, for what might be the last time. Each new revelation was a small shock, a little jolt that sent a lump to his throat. This wasn't it. This couldn't be it. Surely it wasn't the end.

The boy made his mouth go dry and his stomach churn. His little mannerisms, his smiles, his frowns, the cold bluntness that made him wish for the boon of tears, and the kindness that made every sorrow, real or imagined, melt away like a dream.

Any moment now, Roxas would show that he had heard. Roxas would turn around, and come back, and everything would be just as it should be again. But the boy kept moving, turning the corner without once looking back.

Jerk, Axel thought, but there was no real venom behind it. Only desperation, building slowly to panic. Wouldn't he turn around, wouldn't he see…? The seconds passed. Something wrenched deep within him, something real, something painful. What was this…?

"Roxas," Axel said at last, his voice cracking plaintively. "Stop. Please."

Roxas stopped, but refused to turn. He heard footsteps behind him. Against all better judgment, he looked back. Axel stood there, looking thoroughly miserable.

Roxas' will trembled, but held firm, and slowly the boy dragged his gaze upward to meet the green eyes which lingered on him. Red on white on black. A creature of extremes.

Axel would always watch him, studying him intently, searching for the flicker of character that his motions betrayed, always finding that the stupid smile had somehow worked its way back on his face. It had always been that way, and he was never sure why. He never could quite understand it. Now maybe he never would.

"… I don't want it to end like this," Axel confessed finally, glancing at the ground, as though looking Roxas in the face had become too painful. "Can't… can't you at least tell me where you're going? Or why? This might be the last time I ever see you again, Rox. I don't want that, but…" Axel sucked in a breath, shuffling his boots against the pavement, waiting.

Roxas shook his head. "I can't tell you where I'm going. You know that. I didn't even want to talk to you at all..." He turned back, facing his friend. "I knew you'd take it like this, I knew you'd try and stop me. I'm sorry, Axel. Believe me, if there was another way, I'd take it. But the Organization won't help me in this, so I've got to do this alone. I have to see him. I have to find out who he is …or else, I won't ever know who I am." Roxas looked timid suddenly, hungry for approval, like the fifteen-year-old he really was. "Please understand."

Axel lowered his gaze to the floor again. "So you weren't even gonna say goodbye at all, huh?" he asked, running a hand through his hair. "Go figure. You think you know a guy."

The redhead looked up, catching the look of shame and embarrassment on Roxas' face. He forced a smile. "But… I guess I have no choice but to forgive you. I'd hate to have you leave angry at me."

He smiled again, more broadly, and Roxas trembled at the pain visible in his eyes. "So, you can go, I guess. With my blessing. Just, try and visit once in a while, eh? Don't forget about your old pal?"

"Axel," Roxas whispered, his eyes prickling, and, in a few quick strides, he had crossed the distance between them to where the other man stood. The boy threw his arms around him. "You know I'll never forget you," he laughed, trying his hardest to blink back the tears that burned his eyelids. "Who could?"

Roxas had always been the brightest, the most real of them all, a strange, brilliant being that had strayed in from some foreign land, alive and beautiful and strong and fierce. To garb him in the robes of black worn by the Organization seemed a profanation of some inherent part of his nonbeing. He obeyed the laws of none, tolerated no falsity, obeyed or disobeyed the Superior according to his mood, and the mysterious Keyblades seemed to glint like a hidden mettle behind his beautiful eyes.

Axel chuckled, wrapping his arms around Roxas, burying his face in the boy's flaxen hair, so soft, so familiar. Then, slowly, he stiffened, pulled back, studying Roxas' face in concern. "It… it's not because of me at all, is it?" he asked, worry clouding his face. "It's not because I wasn't good enough? Because I wasn't a good friend, or because I… I couldn't do enough to help you…"

"No way!" Roxas shook his head in disbelief, looking up at Axel, a small smile playing about his lips. "How can you say that? You ought to know I loved you more than anybody else in the whole godforsaken place."

Axel smiled. Some of the lines of worry disappeared from his face. "Well, that's a relief, anyway." He tightened his arms around Roxas. "Not that we really can love, right?" he asked, with a touch of his old cynicism. "Ill-equipped, you know."

Roxas chuckled. "You're equipped just fine, what are you talking about?" Axel laughed aloud. Roxas smiled, blinking against Axel's throat, a sudden lump tightening in his chest. His voice was hushed and sincere. "Heart or no heart, Axel… I love you. Nothing's gonna change that, all right? No matter who I am. No matter what I become. I love you. Remember that."

Axel, whose entire life had always revolved around falsity, who put on the show of obedience and ruthlessness and calm every day, quaked under his gaze. Nothingness could not, would not, reside in those depths, and he could not pretend to feel nothing when he looked into them. Axel had always been a reflection of others' purposes for him, a fiery mirror in which people saw what they desired shining back at them. But when he reflected on Roxas, Axel was conscious only of light – hard, piercing, blinding, illuminating, living and incarnate light that would devour him alive if he let it. And he did. Willingly. Each and every time.

Axel couldn't speak for a moment. He simply nodded into Roxas' hair, fighting the emotion – what else could it be called? – that threatened to drown him. God, what he wouldn't have given to freeze this moment, if only he could… if only he could manage something, something besides burning alive for the boy in his arms. "I'll remember it," he managed at last. "You'd better get going, then, and soon, or they'll catch you before you get anywhere."

Roxas nodded, but didn't let go. Axel gazed for a few moments at his face, as though trying to memorize its features; then he stooped in to plant a kiss on Roxas' cheek. The boy moved quickly, tilting his head sideways and back to catch Axel's lips. They collided.

Axel's eyes widened in surprise, a faint blush coloring his cheeks; Roxas simply tightened his grip, hanging on with rare, raw tenderness. He raised a hand to slowly stroke Axel's cheek, fingers brushing his long, red hair. Slowly, the older man relaxed, leaning into the kiss, letting Roxas take control. The boy traced a warm tongue over his bottom lip, slipping it into his waiting mouth, his lips parting only a little, innocently, beneath Axel's own. Roxas' mouth tasted of sugar and sea-salt and Axel tried hard to memorize that, too. His lips and tongue moved against the boy's, now tenderly, now with a desperate, aching force, seeking to convey through motion a longing that no words could express. With shaking hands Axel traced the graceful lines of the boy's torso, moving down to rest his palms on Roxas' narrow hips, pressing them close to his own.

That first time, Roxas had seemed so delicate, so small, that Axel was afraid he might break. His eyes had lingered on the delicate arch of Roxas' neck, on the slim, soft lines of his torso and ribcage, on the soft blond patch of hair between his legs and the organ that nestled there, half-hidden in shadow, hiding its weeping head from his view. Despite the aching hunger that stiffened his whole body, Axel managed to ask, "Are you sure you want to-" Then Roxas had met his gaze, blue eyes locked on green, the light in them hard and unyielding and savage and proud. Axel grinned and reached for him, their fingers locking together as their bodies collided, wiry strong youthful immortal, a shooting star that burned as it fell from Heaven, a chaos that made beautiful sense.

Finally, Roxas pulled away, blushing furiously. "I'll visit you," he said finally. "And when it's all over, I'll come back. I promise."

Axel nodded, touching a hand to his lips in wonder. "I'll wait for you," he said, and then, with a touch of his customary bravado, "I'll be looking forward to it." A final grin split his face.

Roxas smiled back, his lips flushed pink from exertion, his dirty blonde hair hanging in his eyes, so bright they seemed to glow. Not only his eyes – in that final moment, all of him seemed filled with radiance, lit by love from within.

Axel really didn't understand why Roxas ever left. In Axel's opinion, Roxas never had to leave to be complete. He was already complete, already whole, already beautiful. Already perfect.

Roxas turned and walked into the portal, which swirled and vanished behind him. The alley seemed to become darker, more deserted, less alive without his presence there. Axel stared at the spot where he had disappeared, leaning shakily against the wall, suddenly struck by the knowledge of fear, the realization of emptiness.

He stayed, staring, a black-clad figure against black streets, for hours on end, only his red hair betraying him against the backdrop as he stood vigil and waited for Roxas to return.

From his perch high above the rooftops, Saïx observed the proceedings with an eye that grew more and more interested as time went on.

"Hm," was all he said, straightening at last, cold eyes taking in the tableau of the red-haired man, slumped, staring at a corner of the alleyway with dogged persistence. His eyes closed for a long moment as he stood there, thinking: an almost-imperceptible smirk had appeared on his thin, colorless lips. Then shadows engulfed him as he, too, disappeared from view.

One final note. If you have indeed made it this far - and ESPECIALLY if you are going to list this story as a favorite, or put it on alert - please have the courtesy to leave a review. There's nothing more frustrating than seeing the number of alerts exceed the number of reviews.

Much love, and stay tuned for the next chapter in a few days.