Our new activity is about to become even deeper.

Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

I remembered I had a bed in my room, so I gently shoved him onto it. He was so beautiful when he looked surprised and flushed. But he immediately lost that lovely silhouette as I was atop him once more, kissing him, practically sucking away the innocence that pooled his entire body; inside and out.

He pulled me closer, we were crushing each other with passion, heat, and love. Only if angels could love someone back. What if I showed this angel how much I need, crave, and bleed him, but he left after our lusty sleep together? What if he broke me like the toy I am and leaves all the pieces behind in a pile to live forever broken? Heart so damaged I can't love again. Even though I'll always love my poisonous perfection. Roxas. Roxas. Roxas.

But, since I'm living out these moments slowly and painfully wanting, every time I touched him, a sound accompanied that touch, the heated touch killing and burning what was his angelic form away. Even though he was still beautiful. He roughly kissed away any visible shards of any real holiness left on my battered, broken body. Butterfly kisses. Lustful misses. Painful bliss.

Poetry is having its way with my twisting, warping mind.

"Axel…Axel…Axel… I don't think I know this side of you… Care to give a proper introduction…?" He broke the delicate glass of my sanity. Touches, kisses, suckles, everything we were doing now seemed somewhat mature. We were adolescence discovering passion, we are adults just revisiting and renewing.

"Roxas… little heaven in hell… This is me; let my mask of a face melt away to show you what I really am. I'm another slave for you, treat me however you wish…"

"Axel, you put it so sour how you really must be inside. Let me rip it out and show you how sweet it all really is?" He questioned so innocently about it. But then reality shredded its way through my mind and I realized.

We became so cliché. It stung like poison to think, speak, or hear that word for me. One could only wonder what an angel thought.

"Cliché, Roxas, we are cliché. Nothing but useless lovers that won't make a difference… Reality can kill an angel like you; I think you should go back to heaven… or wherever angels come from. I will never know for sure…"The words poured. But the situation at hand grew, it was urgent that we became one. It was almost destiny. Or fate. But I felt so strong about it. No matter what anyone thinks, says, or does… I will take this angel as my own. My selfish desire.

Finally

Everything is away.

Finally

I see him bare, beautiful, natural.

Finally

My sinful dreams become my memorable to die for reality. Reality Reality Reality. How many times can you say it without becoming redundant? I'm guessing once, so I already became repetitive.

We lock lips, as I push in. Break through his virgin body and hear his scream. He looks at me, wet eyes, but urges me forward. Pleasure I only dream of. I hope his home accepts him for doing this. Being with me. Almost the king of sin. Almost. The word that hangs you between being completely something, or completely nothing.

One…two…three…

We move together, he moans, I groan, he screams I smirk. We have a contradicting move for everything he other does. It's all planned out perfectly. Perfection. Roxas… Mine…

"O-Ohh…Axel-Axel! Yes…! M-Make me yours, m-make it h-hard!" He commanded, I tensed. He wants to be mine. I want him to be mine. My dolly, my toy, my lover, the one I cuddle when I need to. The one I fix when I have to…. The one I break… by accident.

"Roxas… I want you to… ah… stay mine forever, be mine, even in death… time can't affect us. We are forever, even if life isn't." He moaned again, my words touching him deeper than my rough thrusts. I know he's already mine, he was when we had begun, it's wonderful to be needed. I never knew I would be. Never ever never. Peter Pan may not believe in 'never' but I do.

"Y-yes! Oh… Oh Axel…"

Climaxes approaching, love deepening. I noticed something, Roxas panting, everything was grey but him.

He breathes disaster.

But I don't mind… I live disaster so it's fine.

We released, me inside him, him on me. It was lovely. He looked beautiful.

Gentle looks, his eyes a shine, like the sea shining in a moonlit glow. His cheeks still flushed, lovely blush. There is one way to make him sleep.

Say I love you

"I love you, Roxas"

Make a promise

"I'll be here in the morning with you."

Kiss him everywhere

Say goodnight.

"Goodnight, sweet dreams, I love you forever… Now sleep…"

Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

And in the morning, I was there, with him, in eternity. Our love from whenever before still lingering in our hearts, heads, and physically in the bed. We just lay like that, breathless, in love.

I was alone before, then obsessed, then in love, and no longer alone.

Who am I?

Axel, Mr. Misery

Who is he?

Roxas, Mr. Malice.

We are in love.

He breathes disaster, I live through it.

A sweet obsession turned into a deep love. Last forever. Play carefully. Love longingly.

Misery loves its company.

End