Thanks again to everyone! You guys really don't know how encouraging you all are! I've been dead with work and exhaustion and I haven't been sleeping right. I'm a little messed up and terribly distracted.
Nothing belongs to me, as usual. Will the rest of you join me in the corner of woe?
As a last announcement, the installment took a bit longer because (besides my laziness) I don't have internet and may not have it for a few months. Stupid internet people need to be shot, in my opinion. But I will do my best to get posts up whenever I can.
So, without further ado, let's start this chapter with a bang and end with a major explosion! And as always, I will say this for you again, please enjoy and happy reading!
"Take this clock and turn back time. Make your decision; don't be seen, don't be heard, make the slightest move and experience a world full of change. Or sit back, reminisce and appreciate what the present currently holds." - Me –Ebil Chameleon-
It seemed like Demyx actually had doing the laundry on his mind. He had put the clothes from the dryer in the laundry basket and set that on the small table they had set up for the folding to be done. And he proceeded, right there, to pick up each article of clothing and fold them each methodically, not saying a word and not looking at Axel.
The redhead had jumped in to help him, and they worked in silence for the first few minutes. The air was heavy with tension but neither of them seemed to address that issue. It wasn't something that happened between the pair often, but they were never nervous when it did. They knew each other far too well and were too comfortable with each other, regardless of how each of them were feeling.
"You're going to behave yourself, right?" Demyx finally spoke, folding one of his own band t-shirts and setting it on top of the others in his pile.
Axel didn't speak right away, instead allowing a sigh to escape his lips to show that he was not in the mood for any of this type of discussion. "Yes," he ground out, sounding almost bitter, and perhaps he was. He had his own way of dealing with the things he was feeling, distracting his mind so horrific images wouldn't haunt him instead.
Demyx shook his head a bit and frowned, his hands stopping as they gripped a pair of Roxas' pajama bottoms. This was a whole new development. Axel hadn't had to go through the mourning of his mother's death (if you could call his feelings that of mourn) with a boyfriend other than Demyx. The blond had even gotten through dealing with Axel when they hadn't been dating, though those were times he'd rather not recall. The last two years hadn't been terrible. Axel had cleaned up his act, and had been doing extremely well with leaving the bottle behind him and not letting that part of his life take over again. But Demyx had been disappointed with himself on those two occasions. He had given in, he wasn't strong enough and he had feared what Axel would decide to do if he chose not to give the redhead what he needed. If Demyx hadn't served as Axel's distraction, where would he have turned? Old habits, that was nearly for sure and the musician was willing to do anything to prevent that from happening. So what did he do? Catered to Axel's needs and slept with him of course, despite his best efforts to try and put that close relationship they once had behind him. It was painful on both their accounts and some days Demyx wondered if he should regret what he had done.
No. He didn't want to regret anything he ever did with Axel. Everything about the two of them served a purpose, whether it was to cheer the other up or provide the only form of comfort that would work.
Demyx had a new fear this year. He knew better than anyone just how dominate and demanding Axel could be on this particular day. What Axel had seen as a child was tormenting, traumatizing, horrific, and destroying. No one could understand what Axel felt on this anniversary and he wasn't one for opening up. His mind just focused on one linked thought; distraction. And the distraction was linked to sex. There was no way around it and no way to steer it in a different direction. It was finalized, carved in stone, and never to be changed.
At least, for a while. It was the only way Axel knew how to deal.
They were working in silence once again. Demyx moved and left Axel to the freshly laundered clothes and went to put the wet clothes from the washer into the dryer. His gut was turning circles as his thoughts wielded to his new fear.
Roxas, thanks to Marluxia, was more than likely informed on what today was, but he still was unaware of Axel's form of cooping. There wasn't much he could do, there was no stopping Axel all together. There was, however a way to divert the attention and wild behavior from Roxas, though Demyx, at this point, would never allow it. In his own opinion, there was only one person who'd be able to handle Axel on this day and that was himself. No way, he thought and brushed that away. Roxas was together with Axel and he himself had his own boyfriend. The thought of giving himself to Axel for one day in order to protect Roxas was just out of the question. He could never betray Zexion like that; there was just no question about it. And it would hurt Roxas as well.
Then it occurred to him, or rather it made itself known; Axel had to do this for himself. Demyx pursed his lips as he shoved more clothes into the dryer, and then opened the cabinet above the machine to find a dryer sheet to add in.
If Axel truly held feelings for Roxas, if he really loved the boy, he would find the control within himself to know his limit. He would have to keep himself in check and not cross any boundaries, not go too far and do something that Roxas wasn't ready for. This was all up to Axel, but that didn't mean he wouldn't get his own words in to try and aid his best friend onto the right path of self control.
"Just promise that you won't push him," Demyx finally said, having worked up the words. Axel didn't respond and continued to fold the now diminishing pile of clothes. His face was set, looking grumpy and preoccupied. Demyx stared at him, not caring if it made him uncomfortable. He felt so horrible seeing the pain and anguish that resided there, showing up for the few weeks of this month and sometime afterwards. This was the hardest time of the year for Axel, and they both looked forward to New Year's because that was the time when Axel would start to return to his normal self and be ready for a night of partying, ready to start the new year with a clear mind and fresh start.
New Year's seemed like another ten years away though, and all that could be focused on now was just getting by and dealing with the hurtful memories.
He wanted a response; he wanted to be reassured that nothing was going to go wrong. "Ax, you have to have better control this year. This isn't me; Roxas is new to this and won't understand anything." Looking down, Demyx mindlessly started the dryer but the machine did nothing to drown out his words. "I'm wondering if we should have told him about this a while ago."
"No," Axel ground out and stopped what he was doing. His eyes were closed and his mouth was twisted into a deep frown. His lips were pressed tightly together and in a quieter, softer and almost nervous sounding tone, he repeated, "No. I'm sure he knows what today is now and that's good enough. He shouldn't have to be part of this in the first place."
Demyx wanted to scoff, to throw his hands in the air. He discarded the gestures but he did go along with being blunt. "You already got him involved when he didn't know what day it was! If you don't want him to be involved, then don't let him be. But Axel, remember you have no one else to turn to. Old habits are dead and I'm not going to help you this year. So either control yourself or do something you'll regret."
Axel looked defeated. He was amazed to see his hands shaking. The abandoned feeling crept upon him, making his blood start to drop in degrees. He was stuck, no options seemed available and the ones that were available were out of the question. Demyx was right; Axel couldn't turn to him for what he needed. Demyx had Zexion, he had Roxas. And Roxas…he was out of the question, but Axel didn't want to finalize that thought. He needed his distraction. Since his discovery of what helped clear his mind and stay in a decent mood, he craved it. It was like when he was recovering from his alcohol addiction. But that didn't seem right to be thought about in past tense. He was still fighting his alcohol addiction, everyday. And this time especially, the cravings just grew worse and worse.
He had two options. Neither was pleasant and both were destructive. There was sex and there was alcohol. If he had a choice, he'd definitely choose the first. But there was only one person now, someone he was devoted to with everything he had and the possibility that Rox wasn't ready for that was there. Pushing him wouldn't be good and loosing Roxas would just break him even further. But turning to the bottle would and could do worse damage. He wasn't a friendly drunk, not even in the slightest and when he was in the wrong mindset with a drink in hand, things could become deadly dangerous. A literal term by past experience.
Every muscle in his body seemed to tense right up with the thoughts flowing in and out of his head. His hands still shook and he dropped the shirt he had been holding, clenching and unclenching his fingers over and over again. There was too much on his mind and he needed it to go away. He wanted the stress of the situation to leave, to be gone forever. He wanted to sleep with no dreams, to not wake up until the New Year and start with nothing on his mind but resolutions and good thoughts of what the year might bring.
There was too much swimming in his head now and it was driving him mad.
"I need a cigarette," he spoke smoothly though the distress was evident in his voice. He took a deep breath and turned to leave to the garage.
"You know, you haven't been smoking as much as you used to," Demyx commented, hoping to lighten things up with a change of subject.
Axel stopped in the doorway and his shoulders slumped slightly. All he said before leaving was, "Roxas doesn't like it."
The first time I had sex was three days after my mother's death, and it was with Demyx. We were each other's firsts.
I ended up staying at Demyx's house for a week after my mother died. I felt like the dead shell of a person who had been once full of life. Everything seemed surreal and I didn't have the ability to fully distinguish the happenings around me. It was as though life continued to move along and had left me behind, trapped me in a bubble where time had stopped for me and I had nothing to do but watch everyone else move on.
I was so caught up in reliving that night, over and over, day in and day out. It was all I could think about and as frustrating and killing as it was, I had no control over it. I was shaken to the core, scared beyond belief and lost, so lost. I had doubted myself before over my mother's words and the terrible things she had told me, but the words she expressed three days ago downright killed me and was, by every second, draining away the positive feelings I had for myself. Everything now was just about how terrible a child I was, how retched a human being for making another so miserable that they had to take their own life. I was fifteen and already I had it cemented in my mind that I was a nuisance to this world and everyone who occupied it.
Luckily Demyx had been there, and on that third night, lying in bed together, he kissed me. It started gentle enough, like many of our innocent and comforting kisses. We were both shirtless; the heating in the house made it feel like the middle of summer rather than winter. His skin against mine felt so good, so warm and my mind instantly wrapped around it, images of his body blocking out everything else. I ran my hands over that body and I kissed him harder, hungrier.
His response was immediate and I was positive that he was thrilled that he had evoked some reaction out of me. And I couldn't stop, wouldn't allow the sweet taste of his lips to be pulled away from mine. I needed him so badly, felt myself grow hard in no time and at that moment, I lost it.
Sure it was awkward; it was sloppy and not coordinated. Two young teenagers, boys for that matter, sharing their first time together. They didn't teach about gay sex in heath class, so we had to go with general street knowledge. At our age, it was like kids knew it all and we both knew pretty much what to do. That was just in our heads thinking about it though. Actually doing it was a different story. I ended up having to leave him (much to both of our chagrins) and run to the bathroom to frantically search for lotion. I knew enough that that was something to make this a bit easier and more comfortable for Demyx.
It was amazing. I hadn't realized it during all of this, not until afterwards. I never once thought about my mother. Thankfully too, that would have been tragic. Instead I was too excited to think of anything else, too enthralled by the new sensations that I never thought possible. Sure Dem and I had fooled around and reached the orgasmic point. I thought that was enticing enough, but this…being so connected, being inside him and so close, so intimate…nothing could ever compare. My mind was blown and I was just happy, truly happy. And it wasn't happiness since three days ago; it was happiness from waiting for it for fifteen years. I finally found it.
I realized I was in love with Demyx that night.
Wise beyond years they always say. It was like a revelation, a 'coming to terms' in other words. It clicked, it made sense. And that was drilled into my head and distracted me further. I was left with amazing feelings, amazing post-orgasm euphoria and just such an indescribable state of consciousness. My revelation helped, but I had come to understand after the second time we had sex that it was just that, the sex, that really blew my mind away and left me in a dazed state, nothing on my mind and at peace. It was everything I could only dream of, manifested into an unbeatable ritual.
From that night I was hooked. But that night was special, that was The Night, the one that started it all. I found a sense of calmness whenever I was with Demyx after that. He was my savior and the only one to comfort me. He made it all the more special and I couldn't think of anything but him. He pushed all thoughts of what had happened to me out, kept me from thinking about my mother's death and the wrath that I faced with my father. I was free when I was wrapped in sheets with Demyx beneath me, both of us panting for breath and gasping each other's names.
I felt better, had a clearer mind during and even after sex. Afterwards I was too exhausted for anything, wanting nothing more than to cuddle with the body next to me and sleep till the sun rose and a new day was starting.
Even when things in my life grew out of control, when I had turned to the bottle as a sort of comfort and way to make me black out completely, sex was still another option and something that made my mind blank with passion. And each year on the anniversary of my mother's death, that was the one thing that I wanted, that I needed to make it all go away, make the image of her blood soaked body disappear completely and leave me be until the next moment when a body wasn't around for me to lose myself with. Even when Demyx wasn't with me for that one year, I made do and, though I'd rather forget about it now, found a willing participant. It wasn't the same, didn't compare, but it was something and it was good.
I knew, ever since the first time, three days after her death, I was hooked and nothing was ever going to draw me away from my distraction.
Roxas had grabbed the home phone after it rang two times. "Hello?" He was in his and Axel's room, having been looking through his school bag for his homework assignments.
"Oh, Roxas! My, it's strange hearing a voice other than my two boys. Well, I have three boys now, thanks to you. How are you, baby?"
The energetic voice of Mariana wasn't something anyone could miss. Roxas felt like a small bubble of merriment or something of the like surrounded him, blocking out the negative that wafted around the house now. "I'm fine. How are you?" It was a great feeling how much the woman already cared for him, though he'd only met her once and had talked to her on the phone a few times. She was too sweet for her own good and made him feel like part of the family already. Like she was a somewhat surrogate mother now. That was comforting.
"I'm just peachy, dear. How are the rest of my boys, hm? Actually, how's Axel been today?"
His lips downturned a bit and a strange, almost cold sensation washed over him when his thoughts turned to his boyfriend. "He's okay, as far as I can tell. A bit clingy. He's helping Demyx with the laundry now." In his head he could picture the woman before the TV set or just walking through the many halls of the house. He wondered if her husband was home or if she was alone with the help staff.
"That's actually good," the woman said, sounding not as cheerful as when she first answered, but not completely crestfallen. "It helps if he keeps his mind distracted. You know-?"
She trailed away and Roxas understood. "Yes, I know what today is. It's okay; I understand how he's feeling."
The indication was there and he realized it only after he had already said it. His face pinched a bit as he took notice to this and his hands stopped from their search for the right folder he needed in his bag.
"Oh dear, your mother-?"
Again, she trailed and he knew what she was asking. Too late he thought and felt better that he wasn't able to see her face, was unable to recognize the sad look and obtain the apologetic face that was always offered. There were always words though. Still, now was a better time to just get it over, since it was bound to happen at some point. Thinking about the fact that he was parentless now still stung, but it was becoming more and more manageable. "Both, actually," he admitted with reluctance. He reminded himself that they were talking on the phone and all she could offer were words, but in his mind he could see the pretty amethyst eyes clouding with sympathy that was given to him far too often. He was over that.
"I'm sorry, honey. I guess it's good that Axel has someone relatable, even if the causes may be far off."
Roxas didn't know how Axel's mother died. He knew nothing of Axel's relationship between the redhead and his parents. If it was anything like he and Sora had with their parents, then Axel must be dying on the inside right now. But he wasn't let in; he didn't know anything, so he couldn't be the judge of anything.
"Marluxia's here," Roxas tried, wanting to get off the subject they were on.
"Is he? Oh I haven't talked to that boy in ages it seems. I have to scold him for not calling me."
"D'you want to talk to him?" the blond asked and extracted the folder he had been searching for from his backpack. He grabbed a pencil from the computer desk and walked from the room.
"Only if you don't mind."
"Not at all." He descended down the stairs, finding Marluxia in the kitchen and scrounging through the cabinets with a look of distaste on his face.
"Alright then. It was good talking to you, Roxas and I'll talk to later then."
Walking up behind the older man, Roxas said, "I'll talk to you later." He handed the phone over to Marluxia who seemed to have some ability to just know who was on the phone. Or perhaps that was Mariana's doing. She did have that kind of energy that just radiated around her that you could feel, even through the phone.
"This wouldn't happen to be my most favorite and beautiful auntie, would it?" Marluxia spoke and continued his search for food.
Even from a few feet away Roxas was able to hear the loud shouts from the other end of the phone and snickered on the inside as Marly was scolded. He ventured to the living room. Before he was able to sit he was approached from behind and arms wrapped around his waist. As an instant reaction, his body fell back into the body behind him and he rested his head on the broad chest. Looking up, he was met with clouded green eyes. The faint smell of cigarette smoke caught his nose which wrinkled in response, his body tense for a moment.
Contrary to what Roxas thought Axel might do, he found himself being held instead of swept around and being kissed. A head was bent down to rest on his shoulder and the arms around him tightened and pulled him as close as possible. Unable to do much else, Roxas overlapped his arms across Axel's and rested his head against the other's, closing his eyes and enjoying the moment. He was warm with those arms holding him tightly, his chest tingling with the thought that this was Axel holding him, no one else. His affection and liking of Axel seemed to grow daily, with every look at his boyfriend his admiration swelled.
It seemed like that time that he had thought being in a relationship with Axel would be strange was eons ago. The thing that had once seemed impossible was now breached and he had no desire to lose it. Slowly he had come to terms with it, but now it was seeming to be finalized, true in his mind. He was falling for Axel, and pretty damn hard. Just everything about the redhead seemed to warm him heart from his antics to his aggressive shows of affection. He loved every minute he spent with the other and was grateful for the day that he had decided to go to Hotto Keiki and apply for a job. Because ever since that day (the night of the party, realistically) Axel had been part of his life and he was coming to the conclusion that nothing in this world could change that. Nothing could be done that would drive him away.
It was a little scary to think that he was falling in love.
Lips on his neck woke him from his internal thought and the kisses were sparking electricity in his body. Head lolling to the side, he wasn't in the mood to resist, not like before. Because even though he knew Marluxia was talking it up with Mariana just feet from them, he didn't care because he wanted to be close to Axel right now, to help ease any pain that he may be feeling.
"Ahem."
He didn't take into account that Zexion was on the couch with his laptop sitting in his lap.
Roxas' eyes snapped open and he found that Zexion wasn't looking at them. It wasn't like him to do that anyways. Instead his fingers were still flittering over the keys fluently and his head was down, bangs covering his face. Roxas was all too sure that he was uncomfortable with the displays of affection all the same. He was just too composed, at least on the outside, to let it be show.
Axel tugged Roxas to his side and started leading him away. "Let's go upstairs."
I had actually had my first drink when I was fourteen.
Starving as always, the hunger I was feeling was finally bad enough that I was forced to finding some source of nourishment. I hadn't seen Demyx for four days, instead being confined to my house during a school break. Demyx was away in Radiant Garden with his dad. I was stuck.
I was sure no one was home since I had waited for one hour, listening intently to see if I heard any sort of movement or noises that would indicate someone was here. Confident that the coast was clear, I opened my bedroom door slowly, trying my hardest to minimize the squeaking of the hinges.
My heart pounded and I felt sweat forming on my brow. Coming out of my room was like an adventure, not a happy make believe one, but an adventure where I was an escaped convict fighting for his life and doing his best to be sneaky and not get caught. In my head, if caught, it was straight to death row.
The stupid house did nothing to aid my stealth, but I worked with it, now knowing the right place to step on the stairs so they remained as quiet as possible, the best route to keep myself concealed. I was an expert in my own home and no doubt with the years of practice I'd put myself through, I'd be able to find a way through any building.
When I reached the kitchen the house was still silent. I bit my lip and decided to look through the cabinet by the kitchen window, knowing that was my best bet on finding something. I only wished I had some money, then I'd be able to go out and get something. But I was broke. I probably should find a job.
Much to my expectations the closet was nearly empty with the exception of a few things. Mainly unhealthy (and much less nutritious) sweets that my mother craved constantly. It was all snack food, what my parents lived off of when they were home, and nothing that could compensate as a real meal. It was discouraging, but I'd make due. I could only wonder, as I stole a cookie, if mom would notice that this was missing. No doubt, she was like a bloodhound when tracking her missing food. She knew when it was gone and who took it. I was too hungry right now that anything would work and I was willing to put up with it.
Turning around, keen on getting out of the house completely now, I noticed the tall plastic cup sitting on the table. With the sunlight shining through the window I was able to see the dark liquid sitting in the cup and my throat made its dryness apparent. Parched and in need of something, I looked around the empty kitchen, waiting for someone to stop me. My footsteps were light and small and I reached forward to grab the cup. Just to be sure, I peered down and looked it over, seeing nothing wrong. I swirled it around, nothing dangerous grabbing my attention. Then I took a good smell of it, checking for unfamiliar things.
I did smell the soda. But that scent was heavily covered by the scent of alcohol. I knew what the smell was, some sort of drink, I just didn't know what drink it was. It wasn't exactly a pleasant smell but with knowledge of what was in the cup and the extreme thirst that was clawing at my throat, I knew I was going to drink it.
The cup was almost full, nearly to the brim and it wasn't a small cup either. The scent of alcohol was strong and burned my nose a little as I brought the cup to my lips and took a sip.
I made a face instantly and stuck my tongue out, gagging just a little. Nasty was the first word to pop into my mind. The taste of soda was hardly there. Whoever made the drink obviously overlooked balancing the soda to alcohol ratio. It burned my throat going down but left a slightly tingly, warm sensation afterwards that wasn't exactly repulsive, kind of nice in a way. But the taste on my tongue was nothing to boast about and I cringed.
It was bitter, but at the same time sweet. It was bewildering, in all honesty. I couldn't help myself though. I took another sip, bringing out the same response. Minutes passed by and I was on my fifth sip. It was getting more tolerable.
By sip eight, I made up my mind, not thinking of any repercussions and took the cup with me as I left the house.
Fourteen years old, walking down the street with a cookie in my sweatshirt pocket and a cup of alcohol in hand. What would people say if they knew? I didn't know since all they saw was a boy walking down the street with what they had to have presumed to be juice or soda (the soda not being entirely untrue). They didn't know, they didn't have to know. As far as I was concerned, I was thirsty and this was pretty much my only option. I knew if I looked in the fridge there would be nothing there and tap water was less than favorable; the water from the sink always left a kind of metalic taste on my tongue.
Thirty minutes into my walk, I was heading for the park and the cup in my hand was halfway gone already. I felt weird. I thought about my health class in school and the effects of alcohol and started spotting the symptoms within myself. I wasn't small for my age, but I was young and had a small body, not accustomed to alcohol yet and not tolerable to it in the least. With the amount of alcohol in the cup, I was pretty much drunk already and I staggered a bit as I walked. People who saw me though would mistake me for a klutzy kid, no doubt. It wasn't anything that was too horrible. They may think I just have a hurt ankle or foot or something.
When I reached the park, the drink was nearly gone and my vision was a bit blurred around the edges. It wasn't anything too drastic though, in my own mind. I just felt weird. A bit off, slow in a sense. In truth, I felt a little sick. But that didn't stop me from gulping down the last of the cup, actually finding the drink a bit more tasteful. Once it was gone I almost wished I had more.
I sat on a park bench and just watched everyone. Luckily I was young so no one would take me to be some creep. My stomach growled but I'd already eaten my cookie so I was left with nothing. At the same time, my stomach felt full. I wondered if I jumped up and down if I'd be able to hear the slosh of the liquid I just drank. Then the thought of jumping made me want to puke right then and there.
And somewhere in my lost train of thought, I thought of Demyx and how much I missed him. It'd been four days but it felt longer and I could only wish that he was back here with me in Twilight Town. Why did he have to leave with his dad? He should know that he has to be here with me, close by in case I needed him. I didn't have a means of getting in contact with him if worse came to worse. But it hadn't come to that, had it?
Maybe it did. I wasn't exactly all right. Dad was angry last night and had a go at me. There was a lovely bruise on my back, right smack in the middle that I noticed this morning. There were finger marks on my upper arm from where he grabbed me, throwing me across the room where I slammed into the wall. I had smacked my head pretty good, but I felt fine other than a bit woozy afterwards. That had gone away.
Besides that, I still wasn't okay. Being fourteen and drunk sitting on a park bench miserable was not classified under okay. I didn't know what to do. This was downright pathetic and I knew it. I just didn't know how to fix it. I wanted Demyx because at least he could help me deal with it.
And I just wish I had more to drink. That sounded nice too.
I don't know how long I stayed at the park. It was dark by the time I even stood up off the bench. I stumbled home, more from exhaustion than anything. With hours of sitting dormant, the alcohol had run its course and left me listless and tired. I just wanted to sleep. I would have slept on that bench too if only I knew that I didn't have to go home. Mom and dad would know I'm missing if they're in a bad mood. And once whoever this drink belonged to realizes it's missing and who took it, they'd come out and find me. What was the point of hiding in a town that they both knew like the veins in their arms? There wasn't one. So I went home.
And I was beat by both of them so bad I was sent into unconsciousness.
That was my first experience with alcohol. Most would think that I'd be too frightened to pick up another bottle again, but I did. It was like I had an epiphany while sitting on that park bench. If they were going to beat me senseless, why not give them a reason?
Besides, I found out that if I drank enough, I couldn't remember much from that day. And that was good enough for me.
It seemed as though the day was dragging on, enticing the bad mood to grow thicker and thicker. Demyx could remember nearly every anniversary and all were terrible in his own mind. This one was proving to be one of the most awkward. He mused on this fact; taking into account that there were two other's now informed on the day and what it was. Still, neither of them had any insight as to the meaning of this day, the events of this day, and how the original day had gone down.
Though Marluxia was part of family (in Demyx's opinion) and he knew what this day was and was very well informed on it, he wasn't privy to all the gory details. He understood how things went and how Axel's mother's life was taken. He knew of the abuse Axel suffered, only because he had been friends with the pair for a good number of years now and was highly trusted. But the main reason that he knew of it all was because he had stumbled upon a mark left by Axel's mother and there just wasn't much of an explanation that could be given. He was let in, told not to tell, and trusted to help Axel out.
Sitting on the couch and curling into Zexion's side, Demyx let out a heavy sigh as a signal that he'd like to say something but wouldn't unless he knew that he had the other's attention. He wanted someone to talk to about everything that was on his mind, his worries and such, and given that Marluxia had disappeared (Demyx believed he had heard a very loud conversation that sounded like a phone conversation when the pink haired man went upstairs) there was one choice. Besides, he needed to know that Zexion was okay with the nasty air to the house that was dampening everyone's mood.
Zexion, who was taking note of some data his professor had e-mailed in his notebook, hummed softly to show that he was listening. Multitasking was one of his specialties and he was able to carry two different trains of thoughts at once.
"Today kinda sucks," Demyx remarked in a whispered voice. It was quiet downstairs and speaking at normal volume just seemed like it would ruin the finally slightly less tense mood and disturb the balance that presented itself.
Feeling the weight of his boyfriend's head being placed on his shoulder, Zexion leaned his head down as his eyes scanned over the words on the computer screen. "I don't know," he chided. "It appears to be simply wonderful to me." Alright, so he was never good with humor. Nor was he a wonder with cheering people up. Neither fell under the 'Things I'm good at' category. Doesn't mean he couldn't try.
"Not funny," Demyx mumbled against the shoulder his head was on. He looked at the computer screen to see a bunch of scientific terms that were more like Latin or Greek or some other foreign language he was unfamiliar with. The silence lingered between the pair before Demyx spoke again. "I'm worried," he said.
"About Axel?" Zexion inquired. He closed the laptop and leaned forward, placing it on the coffee table. He knew when it was time for work and time for personal matters to be told and heard. His notebook joined the laptop and he gave Demyx his full, undivided attention.
"I'm not sure if I should be more concerned about Ax or Roxas. It's just hard to trust Axel on this day. I know what he's like and how uncontrollable he can be. It's shocking, but that's how he is and I've done everything I could to stop him in the past. But in the end, he really does get what he wants."
Zexion took this in with little understanding and was uncertain if he should question for an elaboration or just act as though he knew what was being said. From the display that he had seen of Axel's actions for today, he could guess accurately what it was that Axel depended on, on this particular day. He wasn't sure what he thought of that. He didn't feel any particular feeling about it. To him, it was just something that Axel does to console himself, to try and get by, to make this day easier. It seemed harmless enough. But having to involve another person was the only problem, no matter how willing they were. If you were doing such things for selfish reasons, just using that person and having no true feelings or meaning behind it, that wasn't something he supported.
It was a controversial issue, he thought. In a way, there wasn't much wrong with it. And if the partner was willing and wanted to do such things, wanted to offer themselves and help in any way they could, then couldn't what Axel was doing be considered an acceptance of help? This was too divided in his head to be able to choose. So he decided to stay mutual about it, see it as neither a good or bad thing.
"I just don't want him to do anything to Roxas that both will regret. I don't want either of them to be hurt. Roxas doesn't know what Axel's like on this day. And honestly, today is always the worst, but even after this day he still isn't the same. It takes him a while to recuperate."
Feeling eyes on him, Zexion looked down, finding Demyx with his head tilted back and blue-green eyes staring right at him. Worry was definitely evident there, but so much else was present in those eyes, too much emotion that was begging to burst out. Clearly presented was fear. Demyx was scared, and from what Zexion was gathering, he could see why.
"You trust Axel, don't you?" Demyx nodded his head, slowly. As though asking for reassurance, the blond moved and kissed Zexion briefly. "Axel adores Roxas. I believe that everything will be alright. And Roxas is not a softie. He won't let Axel do as he pleases."
Demyx bit his lip. Even with Zexion's words, his stomach still felt hallow and like there was a monster clawing at his chest. But his boyfriend was right. He'd have to trust Axel, as best as he could. If something did go wrong, he would ensure that he was right there, ready to pick up the pieces and be swift to start mending everything to the best of his abilities.
"You're right. It's just that this is Axel's first year with an actual boyfriend besides me."
Even after Demyx had told him before, there was something off about hearing that the two best friends had once been a serious couple. Zexion shook off the feelings and kept his usual composure. "I'm sure everything will be fine."
Though still not fully convinced, Demyx felt a bit more comforted and was able to ease himself just a small amount. He didn't want to dwell and worry the rest of the day. He had to have faith and trust and hope that everything turned out for the best for the rest of the month. It was all he could wish for now. He felt guilty for taking the Axel approach for trying to distract himself, but his intentions were all good as he leaned up and caught Zexion's lips with his own. Even while shifting positions, leveling himself in the other's lap completely he didn't pull away.
He let the warmth that was Zexion surround him, still amazed that he was with the slate-haired guy he'd been crushing on for a good amount of time. His arms encircled the lithe neck and he pressed his body closer. He loved the arms that went to his waist, the hands that gripped his hips softly, showing just how unsure and hesitant their owner still was. Zexion had come a long way with being intimate, but there was always that slight moment of tentativeness. He allowed a ghost of a smile to reach his lips and slid his fingers into the silky hair and gripping just slightly. Demyx loved being the submissive one and Zexion proved to have a very dominate side, but the blond felt as though he had to force it out of him sometimes.
Finally the hands on his hips tightened to a satisfying level, a promising hold saying that they wouldn't let go. And he was able to lose himself in the kiss, drifting off to their own world. His concerns were pushed to the shadows of his mind and his heart seemed to swell, ridding itself of the ill feelings of worry and dread. His whole body felt on fire and he lost himself to the heated adoration and love they were feeling, hoping that Axel was lost to the same and not meaningless numbness.
I can't say it was easy to realize that I was slowly venturing down the same path my parents had taken in getting to where they are today. And this came upon me before my mother took her life. After that first drink, I knew that I should never touch another again. But I had snuck into the cabinet where what seemed to be a countless supply of booze rest. The first time I had just stared, looking each bottle over carefully, taking in the names and designs. But I never touched a single bottle. I just looked each one over then told myself that this was insane, I'd get killed if I was caught and besides, why would I want any of that anyway?
I went back a few days later and open a few of those bottles and just took a quick sniff of each. My nose was a bit tingly afterwards and I didn't find any of them to be that appealing anyways. I don't know what it was, but there was just some strange temptation about wanting to have some of those clear/amber/creamy colored liquids.
I never told Demyx about my newfound obsession. I couldn't bring myself to tell him that I was suddenly fascinated, after one day of drunkenness, by the very substance that fueled my parent's into being the people that they were. I felt like it would break his heart and I never wanted to do anything that could bring upon that outcome. So I kept it to myself.
It was just so hard though, and eventually when I started to take some of that alcohol for myself, the obsession seemed to grow. Small drinks here and there were what started it. It was always the same; bitter and distasteful at first, then seemingly tasteless and numbing later on. I wouldn't take much, just a quick swig here and there. But the more I did that, the more I craved it.
I couldn't hide it forever. And when Demyx finally caught on, I was a few months past my first drink and taking nearly full cupfuls of the stuff every night that I was at my house. Sudden the taste that made me full out gag would only cause a small cringe that burned on the way down and excited me for more. I was ashamed with every drop that slid over my tongue and down my throat, but my brain was enjoying the periods of not knowing what was going on and not having to stress out with worry and over thinking. Drinking was like a major breath of relief and it was like I was starting to get an understanding of why they drank the stuff.
Demyx wasn't impressed. I didn't expect him to be. He frowned upon me, begged me to stop and I promised him I would. And since he truly begged me, I couldn't help but try. Because I didn't want to disappoint him and I didn't want to end up like mom and dad. There was no way I could allow my life to turn out like theirs'. So I did stop, or at least, I cut off significantly. I would only sneak a little bit every couple of weeks.
In a way, just getting that out of the picture was in its own way a relief. I was starting to worry over the drinking and not wanting to turn out like them. I realized that it was pinning another bad thing on me which definitely wasn't something I wanted. At the same time, those nights of drunken merriness and naïvety, the thoughtless wonder and dreamless nights after passing out were gone and that on its own was depressing. I could only wish that I could have both.
I was good, though. I made my promise to Demyx and I kept it…for the most part. When my mother killed herself, that really did a number on me. I found that consolation after sleeping with Demyx, but I still felt like there was more that I could do to ease my troubled mind. I needed something, twitched on the inside with the thought of what could help, make me forget, cancel the images and make everything go away. I craved that lack of brain function that made me remember. And I remembered just what it was that supplied that for me.
Even that was hard. Since I spent most of my nights at Demyx's house, I had trouble finding a way to sneak some alcohol without his knowledge of it. And since we were so attached at the hip, I couldn't find a way to get away from him long enough to find something somewhere. Not that I wanted to be away from him, which I didn't. But my cravings needed to be fulfilled and the brain killing amazingness of an orgasm high only lasted so long. Alcohol lasted longer.
I found a way. And a lot of it was going back home, back with my father who hated me more than ever before. Not only was it a big mess with the police and my mother, but naturally you'd believe that, with an unstable mother, child protective services would be called in. They would have been, I know it, but (oddly enough) dad had connections. Very good connections with some slimy lawyers and government officials. Just because they're on side with the 'good guys' doesn't mean they can't have a drug addiction. Meaning my father supplied and people owed him favors. The protective services weren't called and the entire mess was cleaned virtually without a problem. My dad was home free and I was stuck with his bitchiness, which escalated to an entirely new level. I caused him problems because I killed my mother and I existed.
No surprise when that he tried to get rid of me himself, right?
A month after mom died I had gone home to sneak some drinks and get out of there quickly. It was simple enough, I thought. Even though I knew Demyx was catching onto my drinking. You couldn't tell a drunk to act not drunk and expect him to straighten up and not laugh at just about everything, could you? Plus the smell of alcohol clung to you just as badly as cigarette smoke.
Dem was sick in bed with the flu and I had made up an excuse that I needed to grab something from my house quick; clothes, books, whatever. He bought it easily enough and insisted that he go with me, but I told him that, no, he was to stay in bed and get better. He pouted, so cute that I wanted to kiss him if he weren't sick, and told me not to take long. He also told me to get someone to drive me so I wasn't walking in the cold. I rolled my eyes and told him that it wouldn't be a problem, but that would have been a better option since it was snowing (though lightly) and the temperatures were brittle. Not to mention that my house was a good hour and a half walk away. On a sunny day, I could handle it.
I was nervous about this because, not only did Mariana pursue the idea of taking me, but that I didn't want to be stuck in the car with her and a bottle of whatever I managed to take. I couldn't find a way around it though and I did the next best thing I could think of; I took my backpack to 'store' everything I grabbed to make things easier.
It felt so strange ridding in the car with Mariana. She was her usual self, chatting away. I did my best to act as normally as I could, not wanting her to catch onto my sullen and slightly anxious mood. It took all I could not to start twitching in my seat. The more and more I thought about returning to my house, the more anticipation I was filled with. That place existed to haunt me, fill me with memories I deemed forbidden to remember. It made me want that drink all the more.
"Wouldn't your father start to worry about you, Axel?" Mariana said at one point. I looked at her with a slight look of shock, surprised that anyone could ever suggest such a thing. My father, worried about me?
"He said that he would prefer I be someplace with my friends. And that it would be better if I'm away from the house…where it all happened." A flat out lie, but what else was I to say? He'd rather me dead? Because that would surely play over well, very well.
"It makes sense," she said quietly and I moved to play with the buttons and knobs, finding a radio station that I knew we'd both enjoy in hopes of cancelling any further conversation.
When we reached my house, the small rickety place that never held any meaning but held such heavy weight of memories, I jumped out of the car and told Mariana that I would be right back, that this wouldn't take long. I was nervous still. I didn't know if my father was home, and if he was, I wasn't sure exactly what to expect from him.
I opened the front door and slid inside, stealthy as ever. My footfalls were quiet as I practiced and my eyes were peeled for any sort of movement. The house was stark silent, but that didn't mean it was empty. As I went up the stairs, two at a time but slowly to prevent squeaking, my heart pounded in my chest. I went into my room, finding everything untouched somehow. It was strange, running around this room suddenly, trying to find some things to throw into the bag so nothing looks suspicious. I know I had a few sweatshirts here that I wanted and not much else. As I shoved my clothes in my bag, I then remembered I had a few textbooks from school as well, stashed under my bed. I dashed over there, fell on my knees and froze with the sight I found. It seemed like those who cleaned up after the accident a month ago missed a few spots. My mother's blood was splotched under my bed, covering the floor, dry and dark. I felt my breath get stuck in my chest and I had the sudden feeling like I was going to throw up.
I didn't even bother to grab my textbooks. I needed to get out of this house at this very instant right now. That was final. I ran from my room, my head spinning. I felt dizzy the entire way down the stairs. The images flooded my head, a slideshow of horror. Her face, so pale and covered with red, her entire body drenched with her life's liquid. I withheld a gag and stumbled a bit as I reached the bottom and entered the kitchen. I needed these things gone.
Her screams rang in my ear, her insults.
"You killed me Axel!"
"Useless, worthless, that's all you are!"
"I hate you! I always have hated you!"
Why, I asked myself over and over.
Staggering to the cabinet where the liquors were held, I planned on grabbing anything, something, and getting out of here, determined to never return. I blindly reached above my head, sought out something. My hand fumbled with the neck of some bottle, but it was slick with sweat and the bottle dropped, falling to the floor where it smashed at my feet. I gulped, still unsure if someone was home.
Had I not been desperate enough, I'd have just left everything and run out of that house. But I was addicted, I was obsessed. The mind eraser that I needed was right in reach and I needed it more than anything else at this point. The echoes of screams, yells and terror were there, ringing in my ears and tearing me apart, piece by piece. I grabbed another bottle, not caring what it was and proceeded to stuff it into my bag.
"I thought it was you."
I looked up and sure enough there he was, drunk already despite the early hour of the day. His eyes were black holes and his scowl was more than just intimidating. His whole aurora reeked of pure hatred and I felt the murderous intent.
"Ya kill yer mother an' have the fuckin' nerve to come back? Stupid prick. And yer stealing my booze now. You've been doin' it for 'while haven' ya?"
He took a step forward, nowhere near graceful. I could smell the whisky in the air and felt a clawing at the back of my throat, begging for a taste. I disgusted myself.
I didn't know what he intended to do with each step he took. As he came further into the kitchen, he went up by the counter, never once taking his eyes off of me. I was terrified; anyone with a sane and sober mind would be as well. Just the look on his face; I knew I wasn't getting out of here unscathed. That wasn't what I was most frightened of. The fact that I had to get back into the car with Mariana was what made me worry the most. I didn't want her to witness the post trauma of me being beaten.
With each step he took, I took one as well, trying to keep the distance between us present. When he didn't come towards me and instead turned to the drawer in the counter, I knew something was different now. I wasn't sure what was going on. My feet were cemented to the floor though, and I was paralyzed by fear. Whenever things went like this, all I could think about were past beatings I've received, wondering what it would be this time, where would I be hit?
My voice box shattered the moment he spoke and I knew better than to speak to him anyways. All I wished for now was the ability to move, to make a break for it and get out before he was able to do anything. But I couldn't. My body felt heavy and sluggish, my thinking slow. This was what happened when he was near, angrier than a raging bull and drunker than your nightly regulars at the bar. Frozen and hoping that something would swallow me whole.
"Always thought murders should be killed like their victims."
What was he saying? What was he implying? That I be killed, just as my mother had? How was she killed though? Tortured for years until finally everything around her drove her mad? I didn't understand what he was saying, what he was doing. I didn't know why he was shuffling through the drawer. I didn't know why he was extracting a large knife, stained with blood that I just knew belonged to her. I didn't understand why he had that knife, still bloody. And I didn't understand why he was pointing it at me as he tried to hold himself upright.
Then the only thing I did know was that he was coming at me, and I was still stuck in place, a fearful child who made the mistake of wanting to come home for the wrong reasons.
He didn't hold back. He did nothing to try and stop himself. He was set on his one goal which was to get rid of me. More questions. Why was he trying to kill me? Did he hate me that badly? What had I ever done wrong? Who knows, he'd never be able to tell me anything. By the time I knew what was coming, I was down on the ground with a knife jammed into my chest, right where my heart was. I couldn't feel the pain. It too excruciating that I was completely without feeling. I knew I went into shock when I saw that blade sticking out of me. I was breathing hard. When had it gotten so hard to breathe? It felt like there was something heavy sitting on my chest, pressing the air out of me. I felt woozy, just as I had after discovering my mother's blood under my bed. The warmth of my blood seeping from the wound was hardly there. All I saw now was the tunneling vision. The last thing I saw was my father's face, sneering and victorious above me as he pulled the knife from my chest.
Waking up in a hospital room was unnerving. With no knowledge of where I was I had that jolt of panic that woke me right up.
"Axel? Sweetheart, how do you feel?"
A voice, so sweet and caring. There was no possibility that my mom would speak to me in such a tone and with those words. No, I wasn't in hell.
"Dear, could you let a nurse know that he's awake?"
It was familiar. I was groggy and slow thinking, but I knew that voice. It was comforting and filled me with such warmth and feelings only a mother could invoke.
"Honey, it's me, Mariana. You okay?"
A hand rested on my cheek, a thumb stroking the underside of my eye. The tip of one manicured nail brushed there too. I knew that hand, I knew that voice, and I knew that name. I wanted to smile but couldn't. Inside though, I was glowing with contentment.
As much as I wanted to open my eyes for more than a few seconds, I wanted to keep them closed and continue to sleep. Something was pulling me back though, a small voice in the back of my head telling me to stay awake.
A door opened somewhere and I barely heard the footsteps. They came closer to the bed I was in. I still couldn't find the will to open my eyes, still wishing to drift off for just a little longer.
"You sure he woke up mom?"
Another familiar voice, one that warmed my heart and made it want to explode. A bit nasally from the passing of being sick, I wondered just how long I'd been sleeping since he sounded a lot better than from when I last remembered hearing it. I wanted to call out his name but my voice wasn't there, not ready to wake up yet. I wanted to hear him again. He sounded worried and I felt bad for doing that. I never wanted to make him worry, but it seemed to be that that was what I always did.
"He opened his eyes, I know it."
She didn't sound as confident as when she first spoke. I could tell she was doubting herself.
It took a lot, more than one could imagine, just to open my eyes at that moment. I did though, and I squinted as the florescent lights blinded me. Then a shadow covered me and I looked up to see Demyx standing over my bed, complete bliss expressed on his face. He wanted to grab me, to hug me tight and never let go. I knew this because that's exactly what I wanted to do.
"Axel," he spoke, no more than a whisper meant only for my ears. He was on the verge of crying. I could see his eyes tearing up. I wanted to comfort him, to explain that everything was okay. But I didn't know that for sure. Because I didn't know what was going on or the exact reason as to why or how I got here. Did it matter? In time, but not now. I just needed him now.
Despite everything, my injury and discomfort, the place setting, the other people in the room, the fact that his mother didn't know that we were more than best friends, I reached my hand up, however slowly. And I cupped the side of his face, grateful that he was on my right side, knowing this probably wouldn't work if he was on my left. I tugged, to the best of my abilities since I was drained of strength, trying to signal what I wanted. He didn't hesitate and swooped down and kissed me, gently since he didn't want to do anything to hurt me. I felt the comfort of his touch as he cupped my face and I melted into it and lost myself.
"It's all over. You're coming home with me now." His eyes were shining.
I had to rethink some things then. Maybe I was in heaven.
When asked to accompany Axel upstairs, Roxas hadn't known what to expect. Something more on the intimate side. But not this, being on their bed with Axel above him, lips covering his own, both of them shirtless and a hand down his pants. Being it was the afternoon, he could understand a hot make out session. But a hand job and the feeling that there was going to be more to it than that was not in his list of expectations.
So they had gotten to this point before. It wasn't something Roxas was uncomfortable with. He still felt a little weird being touched down there by a hand other than his own, but right now it felt damn good and he'd be insane to stop Axel. At the same time, his own hands were wandering the bare chest centimeters from his own. Skin, so smooth yet scarred. Each of those marks remained a mystery to him, a pattern that he was becoming accustomed to. That one mark, the raised bump over Axel's heart remained to be the greatest mystery that was unlikely to be shared anytime soon.
Panting as his peak neared, Roxas moaned into the mouth that held his own. His hands circled around to Axel's back, fingertips pressing into the skin there with need. The hand around him moved slower, a disappointing pace that caused the blond to jerk his hips upwards just a bit. Roxas didn't want to act like he was desperate, but that was just what he was feeling and he was desperate for Axel to pick up the pace and help him finish off faster.
Then the sensation of loss was there when the hand left him, let him go and was drawn from his pants. Axel pulled away from kissing him and instead bit his neck where a mark from being abused earlier this morning was left. Roxas narrowed his eyes though Axel couldn't see and made a small noise in the back of his throat, much like a growl.
"Go on Rox, make some noise. That's what I want to hear from you."
The husky and sexy tone sent chills through him and bolts of excitement made his skin tingle when he noticed the hand that was previously paying him attention was now unbuttoning and unzipping his pants. At the same time his nerves swelled in his throat as he realized that he had never been full exposed, never been fully naked in front of Axel before.
"Relax," Axel whispered in his ear, low and needy, and allowed a hand to gently stroke the boy's side. Teeth softly grazed an earlobe and Roxas let out a small moan and squirmed against the redhead. His pants started their descent, his boxers being taken with them. His stomach tightened with anxiousness and he willed his body to calm down, knowing that at some point in his life this was going to happen. Right now, there was no one better to be with in his mind. Still, the trepidation he was feeling seemed to grow.
A soft kiss was placed on his temple. He couldn't help but lift his hips to aid the removal of his pants. They were slid down over his knees, over his calves, and finally over his ankles and feet where they fell to the floor. The freeing feeling wasn't close to how he felt when he was alone and naked. Now he had someone else there with him, pushed against him with eyes that were looking him over. He was self conscious and bent his legs a bit, trying to make himself seem smaller and provide less to look at. He was still hard from Axel's previous ministrations but that problem seemed to be overpowered by his embarrassment. Cheeks flushed a more vivid red and he noticed the green eyes looking him over with a hungry need that made him shiver.
"Beautiful," Axel spoke, verbalizing his verdict. He smiled at Roxas. Warm as it was, the blond found many conflicting emotions in the brimming eyes and he wasn't sure just what was going on in Axel's mind as far as what was to happen between them. This was far from what he had been expecting and he was battling on the inside as to whether he wanted this to continue on the projected path and the final stage that he was positive what it was.
Again the hands were on him, gliding over the skin of his chest and stomach to end up clasping his hips. Still he was nervous and excited at the same time. It just seemed to be unfair that he was under the scrutiny of Axel's gaze, being the only one naked. He wanted this to be fair, he wanted his share. Even if he had already seen Axel naked, a time that seemed like forever ago, he didn't want to be the only one between them barren of all clothes.
With a small whimper that he was embarrassed by, Roxas tugged at Axel's jeans and worked on getting them off. Axel's chuckled lightly and was eager to comply with the blond's request. He didn't move his hands to help, instead wanting Roxas to undress him. It heightened the experience, made this all the more enjoyable when there was someone else to touch you, to undress you. He moved to the slide, still gripping Roxas' bare hips and pulled the boy along with him so that Roxas was above him. And as the boy made work of his pants, he busied himself with suckling on that precious and sweet neck, intending on marking every inch he could reach.
In no time he felt his pants being pushed down. He helped with getting them off and suddenly they were both naked. Exhilarating, arousing, exciting. Whatever it was, it sent both of their adrenaline systems into action. At first it was just the eyes raking over each other's bodies. Then the hands, tentative yet knowing what they wanted. Then it was Axel, pulling Roxas down so there wasn't a part of them that wasn't touching.
Both hissed from the heated contact of their groins being ground together. For Axel, this was something he missed and something he desperately needed on this particular day. It made his brain go fuzzy, made him concentrate on nothing but the extreme pleasure. For Roxas, this was something he'd never truly experienced before.
He was on top of Axel but that changed quickly when his boyfriend rolled them both over and he was once again underneath the redhead. He forced his eyes open and took in the breathtaking sight. Passion and lust and need clouded Axel's jade eyes and his mouth was parted slightly as he was panting mildly. And he was staring straight down at Roxas, hungrily looking him over, like he was deciding what part to delve on. Roxas fell shy under that intense look.
Hands continued to sweep over his body and he clung to Axel. He liked this, being so close with no boundaries to get in the way. He liked that he was with Axel. His heart grew with that knowledge and it occurred to him just how deeply he felt about the other man. No one had brought out such feelings in him. It was just that right now, he would be perfectly content with just curling up beside Axel and holding him and being held. Such intimate acts were like a bonus to him, a special gift reserved only for him. He could only imagine how Axel was feeling.
Just as he thought that, the hand that was previously stroking his length returned, moving again at that painfully slow pace. He clawed at Axel's back and whimpered like a sad puppy begging for more. Lips against his neck curled up in triumph before parting to let smooth teeth nip at the abused skin. "Do you need more, baby?"
The only reply was heavy breathing and a slight nod. Roxas had his eyes clenched shut. He felt Axel move, the loss of warmth unwanted. He opened his eyes, half way, and glanced down to see the top of red tresses as Axel slid down his body, kissing his skin along the way. He could feel within himself what to expect next and mewled with delight when he felt Axel lick the underside of his cock fully before taking him into his mouth.
What sweet heaven this was, Roxas thought briefly before he was unable to think any further. At the same time, it was all so overwhelming for all of these feelings to crash and wash over him at once. The moist heat from Axel's mouth was entrancing and he felt like he'd just died. The pleasure was indescribable, the feeling of that tongue and the barest traces of teeth. Talented as ever, Axel knew how to make this most pleasurable experience. Roxas squirmed and the blond did all he could to keep his hips still. It was proving difficult though, as he began to crave more of the heat that wrapped around him. He felt the pressure building, the need for release becoming apparent. A forearm was thrown over his eyes as he panted and moaned in ecstasy.
"Axel," he hissed.
It seemed that Axel knew exactly what to do, knew just the right amount of suction, the right amount of teeth and how to move his tongue. He was obviously experienced. It didn't take long until he brought Roxas to climax, savoring ever last bit.
"I love when you call my name," Axel spoke and moved to kiss Roxas. He opened his mouth, sneaking his tongue and probing through to Roxas' mouth. The boy cringed slightly when the taste of his own essence reached his tongue. It was strange but that didn't stop him from kissing Axel to his heart's content. Something else did stop him. A hand, then a finger moving to a place that insinuated taking this all a step further, something he wasn't sure he was ready for or not.
"Wait," Roxas panted as he broke the kiss and pressed his palms against Axel's chest. He looked away, lip between his teeth. He knew that if there was any hesitation (much like he was showing now) that doing that was something he wasn't prepared for. Not that he didn't want to. He just…he didn't know. He wanted to have sex with Axel, but was he ready for that? It seemed like he waited long enough, at least judging by his age, but not in terms of his and Axel's relationship. They hadn't been together long, just about a month now despite having known each other longer. Could he venture into giving his innocence up when their relationship was in its starting terms? Being that he was with Axel, someone he was rapidly falling in love with, if he hadn't already fallen, then it was worth it. But everything felt so rushed, he needed to think, to decide…
A sigh sounded and Roxas' entire body went cold. He didn't like that sound. It was pressuring and now he felt obligated, like he should let Axel go ahead. He was scared now, afraid he disappointed the redhead in some way. When he glanced up, wanting to see just how upset Axel was, he was met with closed eyes and a conflicted face. His brows drew together and he was unsure of what was on Axel's mind. The man just shook his head slightly and rolled off to the side, coming to lie beside Roxas. He wrapped his arms around the blond and held him close, resting his chin atop the boy's head. "It's okay," he spoke. He sounded wary, shaky even, as well as disappointed. "I'll wait. I'll try, at least." Something was off about his tone and Roxas picked up on this. It felt like Axel was shivering, as if he were cold. Then it struck Roxas that he was shaking, ever so slightly, more than shivering.
"Ax?" he questioned, still uncertain and not knowing exactly what to say.
"It's fine, Rox, really." Though in his head, Axel knew it wasn't exactly fine. He was fighting the urge to just take Roxas, compliant or not. That was wrong and he knew it. He could never do something Roxas wasn't willing to do. He had to be good, for Roxas' sake and his own. And his being good (however hard) was being done for the wellbeing of the blond and also for Demyx's peace of mind and trust. He didn't wanted to disappoint Demyx, never. That was one of the last things he wanted.
Though Axel was trying to be reassuring, Roxas still felt guilty. He felt like he was the bad guy all of sudden. Curled up in Axel's hold, he buried himself further into the embrace and clenched his hands into fists. He brought his legs up, curling into a ball, wanting to be completely surrounded by Axel. He was almost comforted by the kiss on the crown on his head, but not fully, his stomach still in knots.
"It's hard," Axel said, whispering softly. His nuzzled his nose into Roxas' hair, holding the boy tighter. "It's been five years and still, this day never seems to get any easier."
Roxas didn't know what to say. "I'm sorry."
Hands began to stroke up and down, along the smaller boy's spine. "It's not your fault. And it's not your fault I act like this on this day. It's just helps, you know? Just being with someone else like this helps distract the mind. It's easier for me to not think about anything else but you, when I'm wrapped around you. You're helping me, Roxie. Thank you."
He didn't feel like he was helping. If he was, then he didn't know how. Was it just his presence that was needed? His physical touch?
Axel pulled the blanket out from beneath them and draped it over them both. He contented himself with running his hands over Roxas' body, wrapping his mind around every subtle curve and the silkiness of the skin beneath his fingers. If he couldn't get sex, then cuddling naked was the next best thing in his own mind. Even if he was still sporting an erection, he wasn't about to ask Roxas for any favors, nor was he willing to leave him to take care of it on his own. He'd live, that was that. Because right now this was perfect, a turn of events. He felt at ease, free from his sex driven mind for once on this anniversary. Roxas put him in a peaceful state, drove the evil haunting from his mind.
Roxas was as much of a distraction as Demyx had been for the past five years, without the need for sex.
He didn't wish to compare the two since neither boy was comparable. He banished the thoughts, returning to clearing his mind of nothing but Roxas and the peace he provided. He was amazed at how attached he'd gotten to the teen in such a short amount of time. He wanted to do all he could for Roxas, be the best he could be. He had to rid himself of comparable thoughts once more when he thought of how much falling for Roxas had been like falling for Demyx.
But the feelings were different, no matter how similar they appeared.
Right now, all he wanted was to dwell on was how unmistakable his feelings for Roxas were.
Nothing else mattered.
"Can you sing for me, baby?"
Roxas shifted, wanting to look up and meet green eyes. When he did, he found nothing but sincerity. "I can't sing."
Axel smiled. "I don't care."
Roxas hid away into the safety of Axel's chest, intent of escaping out of this one. He yawned, and not as an excuse which made Axel chuckle. "Another time perhaps?"
Blue eyes slid shut. He felt sleepy all of a sudden and conditions were perfect for a good nap. Head curled under Axel's, he felt the clutches of sleep grasp hold of him.
Another kiss was placed on his temple and the security of the arms around him aided him to drift off easily. "I love you," was whispered in his ear.
A small groan, then a mumbled, "I love you, too."
So I'm in my room, it's nearing midnight and I'm sitting with opium inscent smoke wafting around me. No, I'm not high. Haha. But this took me so long to finish and guess what? The flashbacks are not finished! I guess I put a lot of elements into Axel's past. That or I'm a detailed writer. But you know what? This chapter turned out to be twenty five pages long (my new record), so I couldn't keep going. Next installment soon (hopefully). School is starting soon, and I still have a job to uphold, so updating will be slow.
Sorry again for making everyone wait and I'm hoping to get a good response so I know that there are people who are still reading this. Thanks for sticking with me!