**Warning/Disclaimer** Kingdom Hearts and it's various characters do NOT belong to me. They belong to Squaresoft, Disney, yadda yadda yadda. I can't get rich off of this sort of stuff—but it does give me all sorts of added bonus. XD
Anyhoo—AU fic, alternate ending, whatever. It's my take on what should happen, and how Riku and Sora should get together, get over the whole thing etc.—since this is a YAOI fic—two guys getting it on—there will be mention of sex—but sadly, it will be edited. ^^
**NOTICE** The lemon which would have been in this chapter was removed to keep it…regulation. _ er, yeah. I'll be providing a link to the complete, uncut version in my ***profile*** so head there when you reach the bottom of the fic, tay? :D
Strictly R-rated…XD Enjoy your stay!
~Bind to Thee~
:three:
Riku had to dig the nails into his palm to keep from laughing out of sheer panic. ~He's here,~ his mind reminded him excitedly. ~He's here!!~ It was hard to keep his face calm, his eyes cold, when faced with the boy he had dreamed would come. The boy he had prayed for.
~Sora…~
He glanced discreetly through his pale hair, struck with a strange shiver as Sora managed a scheming look and ran his eyes down his body. ~That's something I've never expected…~
Then the boy—taller now, not as skinny, but his hair just as wild, his eyes just as brilliant sapphire—raised a brow, the smirk upon his face, and said, "How about we skip the meal and get to … my prize?"
A silence fell upon the room. Riku felt his eyes widen fractionally—~ He didn't just say that!~ his mind stuttered. ~Sora?! Acting…sexy?~ He took in the outfit, the dark pants, the gleaming shirt a darkened red, the tanned skin. It suited him well, the red and black, bringing out his eyes and the brilliant smile.
~…you did tell him to pretend not to know you…~ Riku thought, trying not to smile. The thought of Sora being anything other than innocent was too bizarre. ~He's just acting, though.~
Ithian coughed delicately, a soft chuckle hidden within the sound. "Master Key?"
Sora crossed his arms behind his head, the crimson-black shirt stretching over his chest and gaping at the bottom. "Well, I'm always hungry after sex," he began, affecting innocence with an ease that had Riku grinning inside, even as he started at the words. "Isn't that what it's about? The prize?"
~Trust Sora to cut to the chase.~
"I don't see how…" Flustered, Ithian struggled to maintain his calm. By the way his hands tightened, Riku knew his possessive anger was intensifying. A soft breath and narrow eyes.
"Yes, of course. That is your choice, then," the man finished smoothly. He watched Sora with narrow dangerous eyes. "I was wondering when you would ask."
"If by choice you mean, take it all," Sora said, his smile a touch more cunning. "Then, yeah, I want it all. It's why I won."
A pale hand, almost delicate by appearance, rose to capture Riku's chin, turning his face fully around. "And you, Pet—will you accept?"
He narrowed his eyes to slits, and uttered something for only Ithian to hear. "I have no choice." ~Damn you,~ he thought. ~I would rather die than let you touch me.~ He watched with wary pleasure as the ebon eyes darkened, narrow and hard, and the man smiled wolfishly.
"So be it." Then his gaze flickered to Sora, and Riku fought a shudder as the grip tightened. "Very well—that settles the matter."
Riku pulled his face away from the hand, stomach tight, and struggled to breathe calmly.
"Great!" Sora smiled charmingly. "Come on, Iceheart—sit by me!" he exclaimed, and darted into his chair. A hand extended to pat at the now-empty cushion, a sly light in those innocent eyes.
The blond stood there for a moment, his face closed off. After a second of staring at Ithian with a cold challenge in his eyes, he turned, and strode along the table. He knelt gracefully onto the cushion, hearing Ithian behind him settle down as well. He almost shuddered, sensing the man's gaze upon him, and folded his hands into his lap.
It was the signal to prepare. Others began to file into chosen seats, a murmur of excitement humming through the air. After they were all seated, carefully positioned to maintain the state of their silks and fine-woven clothing, the dark-haired man raised a hand and waved.
It began with slender bodies slid silently into the room bearing small bowls of fragrant liquid, serving them almost simultaneously in shy alluring deference. Quiet talk filled the hall, while the people began to dine upon the soup. A pair of slaves dressed in white gauze began to set carved meat and scooped vegetables upon plates, handing them out.
Sora, once his meal had been set in front of him, had proceeded to ignore Riku's presence entirely.
~He's gotten taller,~ Riku thought, trying to keep his eyes upon his folded hands. ~Stronger, too, by the way he defeated me…~
~He defeated you before…~
~…that was different,~ Riku stated quietly to himself. ~That was before. When I was…~ He sighed silently, heart thumping. He felt strangely light-headed, full of some happy feeling now that it was almost over, now that Sora was here. He was almost free. ~Please,~ he asked inside his mind. ~Don't make a mistake…I couldn't bear it if he took you away from me…~
He spent the most of the meal and twitchy silence, his ears keeping track of Ithian and his moods, but it only served to make him more nervous. Ithian was pleasantly charming tonight, not terse, or angry, or trying to get the upper hand.
~He's planning something,~ he thought, on edge. He was thankful he felt no hunger, but it was only a brief thought. He turned his mind to the breathless wait, eyes lowered. He felt surrounded, he felt unstable. Scared and ready to laugh all at once.
~What about Sora?~ his mind insisted, apparently fascinated with the boy—Riku couldn't help but see the face in his mind, the smile and the familiar-not-familiar voice. The warmth of him, the presence—it was a strange thrill.
~You know what this means,~ a part of him murmured.
Fingers tightened upon his legs, crumpling silk. ~I know…it's going to be him. I've got to…give myself…to him.~
He didn't know if he should feel embarrassed or relieved. He didn't know what to feel, confronted with this impossibility, this unexpected and welcome thing. He didn't know if Sora knew, if he cared or if he would agree…A tinge of red flashed over his skin. ~…what if he doesn't want to?~ Thoughts flashed in awkward spirals, Sora touching him, kissing him.
Riku bit the inside of his cheek and forced the thoughts away. ~It doesn't matter, it's gotta be done. And if he doesn't…I'll have to convince him then.~ he felt a tiny tremor strike his body. ~I can't believe I'm thinking this…~
**~**
Utterly confused, Miruki wandered through the other slaves until he found an empty container, and dumped the napkin of crystal shards into it. ~What…what was that…what just happened?~
"Oh dear—" a low voice murmured, taking in his situation. "Are you alright?"
Miruki slid his hands into a basin of warm water to get rid of tiny fragments, and looked up. "Oh, it's nothing but a dropped goblet," he replied shyly.
"Ah," Belnak said mysteriously. His hands were arranging the next tray of wine-filled glass. "I assume that happened when our illustrious Iceheart arrived?"
Raising a brow, Miruki shot him a look. "Yes. He seemed taken with Ice. I hope this works," he whispered so that no one else heard.
Old and supple fingers patted him gently. "Go and prepare a room. The meal will end soon, and I don't doubt that young Key will want his gift."
**~**
He couldn't get his heart to stop thumping, his mind racing into strange random and barely remembered directions. He couldn't focus. He tried hard to concentrate upon the meal, upon the half-heard questions that unknown people asked. Tried hard to reply casually, as if he knew what he was doing, as if he had seen it all, done it all.
Tried hard to imitate them without giving it away. He had to play the game, without knowing the rules, without knowing how and why and the reasons—only that Riku had set the field. Now all he could do was follow.
~I've found him! He's safe and he's Riku and he's okay!~
~No, don't look!~ he twitched, bringing up a hand to brush at his unruly hair. ~Ask questions when you get him outta here—just keep acting!~
~Oh god—how? I barely know what to say!~ The sense of something wrong, of the game without discernable rules was strong. It whispered through his senses like hidden wire, tripping him up whenever he wasn't cautious. And he needed to be cautious in this warped place.
~Well,~ he mused. ~If it gets bad, I can always use the Keyblade.~
~Yeah, and Donald would turn you into a snail just to step on you,~ he told himself. ~Out of the question.~ He had to think about this, had to tread carefully and watch. He had to be something he wasn't, this acting. It was like feeling around in the dark for something small, and knowing there were holes in the room. Deep and dangerous holes.
~But it's Riku—and he's in some sort of trouble.~
A soft mutter in his mind, as he took a sip of water. ~And he's half-naked, too.~
Coughing, Sora placed the crystal back onto the table and wiped his mouth. His plate was half empty; he had eaten without tasting the food, without caring if it was too spicy or too rich. ~That's enough,~ he told himself wearily. ~I know I'm going through a big hormone-dump, but please—not now….damn freaking control…~
"Oh, Master Key!" a woman called. "Tell us—How was fighting in the arena?"
"Eh?" Sora glanced up, searching for the speaker. She was a thin middle-aged woman, make-up bright upon her narrow face and dressed in pale purple robes. "Oh, the fight?"
The woman nodded, cunning in her eyes, and leaned eagerly to hear him.
"Well," Sora frowned. "It was kinda easy in the beginning—no, it was easy all the way. Being blindfolded was tough though. Fun, but tough—I've never had to fight blindfolded before…" he trailed off, chin in palm. "Is that the thing around here? Blindfolds?"
People were whispering behind their hands, leaning to companions and looking at him in surprise. Beside him, Riku made a soft sound, almost laughter. Sora glanced at him automatically, hoping he hadn't said something wrong, and found himself staring. A flash of sea-colored eyes from under the hair, and the hint of a smile.
"What—why are you guys whispering?" he asked warily instead, going for the innocent look.
"They are surprised," Riku—Iceheart—replied in a soft emotionless voice. "I have fought without my eyes for nearly four months—to learn you defeated me on your first attempt—it speaks for your skill."
~He sounds…cold.~
"Yes," Ithian said softly, watching him with speculatively. "It speaks quite well of you. Tell me something, Master Key. Do you bring such skill to other areas?"
"I haven't had complaints yet!" Sora said brightly, gaining a spattering of laughter.
Ithian smiled, his eyes sliding to Riku. "Tell me, Pet—are you taking note of his skill?"
~Pet?~ Sora narrowed his eyes slightly, unnoticed and snarled silently, ~You have no right to call him that!~
"I take note of everything," Riku murmured, without raising his eyes.
An unspoken challenge seemed to stretch between them. Sora could feel the tension, the hate and agitation. He looked over with a mildly-confused expression and tilted his head. "Um, by the way—" he smiled widely and scratched his head. "About the gil—it's about a hundred thousand, right?"
Distracted, Ithian raised a brow. "Yes, that's right. Is something wrong?"
"Um, yeah, actually…how am I going to carry it?"
"Oh, it's quite simple," the man said, smiling faintly. His eyes whispered 'idiot' as he raised a beckoning hand. "You see, I had prepared a block of mythril for you to carry—it's roughly the same worth as the prize-gil—no need to worry about finding a safe place to hide it."
A slave carrying a small wooden platter appeared to kneel at Ithian's side. Upon the platter was a gleaming blue-silver piece about the size of his palm. Sora blinked. "Wow, that's pretty neat!"
"Oh, it's quite heavy," Ithian replied slyly, tilting the tray so that the metal slid into his palm. His arm dropped visibly, but the man smiled.
Beside him Riku jerked his head up, warning in his eyes, but he didn't speak—he didn't have time. Ithian tossed the metal at Sora without warning. It was as heavy as a small child for such a small piece of metal, and it took effort to throw. A dark flash of anger—the only expression that Ithian would notice—skimmed through the sapphire eyes in the brief moment after the metal left his palm.
Sora snatched it out of the air, blinking, and hefted the mythril as if it weighed nothing. "Wow, you're right—it's pretty heavy." He turned it over in his hands, examining it. "It's soft—would it dent if I squeezed it?"
His eyes wide the smallest bit—strangely unsurprised—Ithian nodded faintly. "Not quite—it's high-quality, however. You should be able to slice a piece of it quite easily."
Unnoticed, Riku dropped his gaze back to his lap, shaking in tremors to fine to care about. ~Damnit,~ the fair-haired boy thought. ~Stop fooling around!~
**~**
Miruki slipped into the shadows once the watchful eyes of the more loyal slaves—people with broken spirits and forgotten freedom—and touched the shoulder of the elder. "It's ready. The meal?"
"Almost done," Belnak mused. He smiled sadly. "If this works…"
Miruki shook his head slowly, his shy and quiet nature fading. "Rest easy, old man. This is what you Saw, remember? The boy Key, and Iceheart—their lives are entwined, you said so yourself."
Hands reached up to pat gently at Miruki's fingers. "Yes," Belnak replied. "So they are. I hope they discover this, though."
A small smile flitted across the dark-haired boy's face. "Trust me—I don't think they can avoid it." Then he frowned. "But what are we to do with Ithian?"
Belnak only smiled, this time a strange bitter smile, and patted a pouch hanging at his waist. 'You let me take care of Ithian. Make sure that those two are safe."
**~**
It took moments for the numerous slaves to whisk the empty platters away, replacing empty glasses. It didn't take very long for the guests to settle into a sense of relaxation, talking quietly and swapping stories. Laughter was heard freely, as Ithian settled onto a large and comfortable cushion. Riku remained where he was, unable to relax, as Sora braced himself upon one elbow and chatted easily.
He was, Riku decided, an incredible storyteller. Not always believable, but still amazing. In the hour spent after the meal, sitting next to him in a breathless anxiety, he was silent witness to the exaggerated tale the boy spun. He recognized fragments that were woven into this story, knowing only half of it was true, even as he marveled at something that couldn't possibly be a lie—no, not Sora. Not with what the boy had accomplished. His stomach was tightening into a strange fluttery feeling as the minutes passed.
The sky was laced with glittering stars, a velvet darkness pressing against the open windows. The soft sounds of wind, the faint scent of the warm air. The rustle of clothing, laughter and human-sound. The chime of glass and metal, the spoken whispers of the slaves, the soft music far in the corner. All of this was the sound he focused on, eyes lidded and tracing over the same folds of his silks. Focus, instead of panic. Focus, and try not to think of what's to come.
Then, unexpectedly, a sound so familiar that is sent him jumping, throat tight. Sora yawned, a childish sleepy sound as he was speaking.
After a second, good-hearted laughter rang out and the few voices, "He's young, yet" and "He must be worn out—"
Riku, blinking and smiling faintly, glanced over to see Sora cover his mouth, still yawning through his fingers.
"Sorry," the boy mumbled. "It's been a long day."
Ithian raised a brow. "Very well, then—I won't be discourteous and keep your attention—"
Riku felt his stomach lurch, thinking ~He's up to something, he's planning something…~
"Take your gil, take your slave, and go to bed," Ithian commanded. He was the epitome of courtesy, of generosity, as he waved a hand.
"But—" Sora began.
"No, I insist," Ithian replied. There was a satisfied sensation hiding behind the burning ember of hatred, as if he knew something that no one else would, and shook his head. "There is nothing more you will miss. Besides, I'm sure you will enjoy the warm embrace of my Pet much more."
A titter of laughter rang out at the subtle slur. Someone, a catty female that Sora couldn't quite see, remarked quietly, "Like lying with a corpse, no response, no?"
Flushing along the high cheekbones, Riku cooled his gaze into wintry ice and glanced at Ithian. There wasn't a need to speak, as he waited, face and bearing cold.
"Alright, alright," Sora laughed to his right. The sound of movement, and a hand brushed his shoulder. "Come on, you." Thankfully, Sora stepped away before Riku could rise, walking as if Riku would follow automatically. He walked like he knew he was better, like he was one of them.
The blond threw one last hate-filled gaze to Ithian, marking down the darkness in the man's eyes, the promise, and made sure the people around them got the impression. Anger and pride mixed as he stalked away from the table, feeling the eyes and hearing the quiet murmurs, raising his head with as much dignity as he could muster.
Sora was nearing the open archway, his back still facing the inside. To his credit, he walked slowly and steadily, without turning and without waiting.
~It's time,~ Riku thought, firmed his gaze, and followed.
His hands were shaking as he walked, his longer stride eating the distance between them, and fixed his eyes upon the mop of dark hair. The shoulders defined neatly under the red silk, the curve of his spine and the shifting muscles. He found himself unable to think, unable to notice the smallest thing, as he walked. Everything he had was focused on Sora, and the looming question.
~Will he…want me?~ He never thought he'd ask himself that question, never thought it would have gotten this far. Never dared to dream of it…
They walked through the halls, Riku a few steps behind Sora, neither one looking towards the other, or speaking. After a moment, passing through empty halls and dark doorways, high lightless windows, Sora paused at an intersection, his gaze focused on something ahead.
Riku looked past him to see a young boy leaning against the wall. His gaze softened, as he saw the slight smile. He flicked his gaze to Sora, noticing the relief on the younger face. He wanted to say something, to do something. Smile, perhaps, or laugh—he couldn't stop the feelings.
"Follow me," Miruki said quietly, and slipped away silently.
For a while they walked, down a flight of stairs and through dusty passages, into the more unused section of the manor. He began to wonder just exactly where Miruki was leading them, began to wonder if Sora was angry, or if he had done something wrong.
~What if he's…still angry at me…what if he doesn't…~
Riku stopped short, breath tight, and swallowed. He said the words that had flitted through his mind for the last year in a soft whisper of a voice.
"Sora…I missed you…"
Sora slowed to a stop. Ahead, Miruki twisted around in surprise to peer at them both. He stood there for a moment, his breath a soft exhalation. Riku stood, eyes lowered from unrecognized reasons, a half-shadowed wash of soft color. The gauzy silks softened his edges, smoothing over his muscled body, hiding the scars. Out of habit, he lowered his head, hiding behind the fall of silver. He stood there, unable to bear the silence, the soft sound of breathing, of turning, and wondered why he felt like crying.
"I've been looking for you for a long time," Sora said in a subdued voice. "I almost…I almost didn't even come here…"
Riku raised his eyes, surprised, to see Sora standing with clenched fists and shaking shoulders.
"I almost went right by here…I didn't know you were here. If I hadn't needed money…if I hadn't—"
He couldn't find any words to speak as he watched Sora struggle.
"I've been looking so long…and I've always—I never thought I'd see you again!" Sora jerked his head up, sapphire eyes bright, and managed a shaky smile. "…I missed you, Riku," he said, half-laughing.
Riku smiled a slow and brilliant smile, his eyes warm and strangely soft—the sight sent a shiver through Miruki's middle—he had never seen such open expression, such warmth. ~Riku…is that his name?~
~They know each other,~ he realized, and hid a smile.
They moved at the same time then, laughing with the strange breathless sound of true mirth, and gripped each other in a bone-crushing hug. They fit together almost perfectly, arms tight, lighter clothing interwoven with the darker clothing.
"How have you been?" Riku asked, muffled against Sora's neck. "You've gotten taller."
"I've been okay," Sora replied softly. "Everyone's okay. I can't wait to get you home—they'll all be so happy to see you—" he leaned back, grinning.
"I want to leave," Riku said. "I want to get away from here like you wouldn't believe, but I can't—not with this—" he reached up to tug at the golden circlet. "It has to come off first."
"That's easy!" Sora exclaimed. "I can just use—"
Eyes wide, Riku clapped a hand over the other boy's mouth, and shook his head. "No, not that! You can't."
Miruki, unnoticed until then, reached out to touch Riku's arm with cool fingertips. "We should keep moving," he whispered. "It isn't safe out here."
"Yes," Riku replied, wrapping his fingers around Sora's wrist, and tugging. "Where are we going, Miruki?"
"But—" Sora began.
"Shh!" Riku turned his head. "We'll talk when we get to a safer spot…besides, there's a few things you should know, first."
~Like how you have to become my lover. Like how we're going to get off of this planet without Ithian trying to kill you. Like…the things that happened before…and the heartless.~
"Man," Sora whined quietly. "Stop being so pushy…I haven't gotten a chance to talk to you, and you're already being pushy."
Riku only smiled.
**~**
Belnak nodded respectfully as he entered the darkened room, head bowed, and folded into the kneeling position.
"I am not pleased," Ithian voice came, modulated and slightly bored, hiding the anger. "But I assume you knew that?"
"Yes, Master."
The dark-haired man turned from his window, from the view of the scattered stars, and faced the elder sorcerer with a dark and absent look. "What, I ask, do you suggest?"
"With all respect," Belnak began softly, "Is it not true that the collar opens only to the completion of the debt?"
"Yes, what of it?" Ithian replied irritably. "I wanted him, Belnak. He was mine to take—not some sniveling scrawny swordsman! I don't care if he wears a collar or not—I want him."
Belnak bowed further, hiding his face and offering the air of complete subservience. "If everything goes accordingly, Master—you won't need to worry about a thing. It will turn out."
A hand fisted in the wispy hair, and yanked his head up. Belnak stared into ferocious eyes. "It had better, old man, or your life ends tonight."
"Yes, Master."
Ithian pushed the head away with disgust, and strode to a small stand of woven metal and glass, reaching for the cask of dark wine. "And what of the spell to wipe his memory? Is it completed?"
"It is, Master."
"Good. I will use it tomorrow. Go and prepare." A soft mad smile formed on the face, as Ithian knocked back a cupful of the thick liquid. "And work out enough for two—I have plans for both of them."
**~**
The door was shut behind them, Miruki's shadow a flickering dance from the single torchlight waiting just beyond the door. The knob rattled faintly, and in the silence, the lock clicked. Sora glanced around the room as Riku touched a candle to the one he had lit off of the torch outside. ~Guess we're locked in,~ he thought, as the light rose slowly.
The room was small and drab, the floor carpeted, the air thick with the stale scent of dust. A single narrow window stretched on the northern wall, moonlight seeping between the curtains. A small chest, a bed that had seen better days, and a thin wardrobe. When Sora pulled the doors open, nothing but the faint scent of perfume was inside. He frowned, wiping his hands.
"This room is really dirty," he remarked.
"It's been unused for nearly five years, now. This entire wing was used by the family that owned the manor before Ithian—he didn't like the space, so he moved to a more 'appropriate' room," Riku informed softly, setting the candles in safe areas, making sure they wouldn't fall by chance.
"I don't like that man," Sora said quietly. "He's…dark."
His back was facing Sora as he positioned the last candle. He merely turned his head slightly, and shrugged. "It doesn't matter."
"Yeah, so, um," Sora watched him sharply. "How'd you end up here, anyway?"
"I was caught stealing food," Riku said shortly.
"And they gave you that golden collar for that?" Sora narrowed his eyes. "No, I don't think it was that."
"It was because I said no to Ithian."
Sora slipped down to lean against the dusty bed and the protective sheet covering it. "What else?"
Riku turned from the last candle, backlit and eyes shadowed. "I said no, and he got angry. I was an idiot," he muttered. "I said that I would rather fight a hundred battles than to let him touch me. He only looked at me, and asked what I would do if I would lose one battle—and I foolishly said I wouldn't lose." A soft sigh, as Riku settled down into that kneeling position across from him. "That was a year ago."
"…and before?"
"We," Riku said, meaning King Mickey, "found a doorway out, a world still uncorrupted. This place. He sent me through alone because he needed to finish something—he said I'd be safe. It was…a week after the Door was shut…"
~A week after I saw you in that place, smiling faintly, sad and happy all at once…~ Sora lowered his eyes to his hands and nipped at his lip. "A week after I shut you in Kingdom Hearts."
"Yes," Riku said coolly. His hands were resting upon his thighs, his hair hiding his face.
Sora opened his mouth, a hundred questions raging through his mind, a hundred spiraling emotions, and found he couldn't think of anything to say. "Riku…" Then, his fingers splaying nervously, he asked, "What do we do now?"
"…I have to get this off," Riku replied, quiet and harsh. His hair still hid his lowered face, but Sora watched his mouth move, saw the muscles of the jaw leap, the slow breath he took. "I don't want to be here anymore."
"The Keyblade will open that, right?" Sora responded cheerfully, momentarily forgetting the half-lit darkness, the musty air. He pulled himself forward until he was face to face with Riku, reaching out to tilt the face up and examining the collar. Absently, one hand gestured off to the side. Riku watched him with glittering eyes, his mouth tight and expression unrecognizable.
"Sora, wait—"
The Keyblade glittered into view with a whispery thud, and carefully, his attention focused on the lightly tanned neck, the gold before him, he set the metal tip of the blade to the collar. "Hold still—" he warned, and turned it just so.
"Whaa—it didn't—" Sora met the gaze, shock and worry in his eyes. "It didn't work."
Riku sighed, setting a hand that shook upon the blade. He pushed it away, face turned away, and spoke, "No, it doesn't have a lock. It won't open like that unless you did that to Ithian—he carries all of the locking mechanisms."
Sora let the blade vanish without another word, and settled back on his heels. "Then," he hesitated. "Should we go find him?"
Riku shook his head, unable to meet his gaze. "We can't. He'll…try something. He's lost his honor, Sora—we can't." Moving slowly, breathing shallowly, he rested a hand on the closest wrist, curling fingers around it. A strange rasp entered his voice, as he licked his lips and continued, "I want you to finish this…I don't want to wait any longer."
Gasping, Sora jerked his hand out of Riku's grasp. "There's gotta be some other way!" He missed, as he pushed backwards, the wide-eyed look of hurt flash through the fair-haired boy's face. "We don't have to—I mean, there's gotta—" he swallowed, blushing, and opened his mouth to speak, unable to find the words.
Riku was watching him with frozen pain, desperation and a fierce determination. His mouth was set, his eyes bright and hard, he looked like some fallen angel in his pale gauzy silks. Sora let out a pained breath, whispering, "It's gotta be me?" and tried not to think of how the candles silhouetted his body.
"I lost, Sora. I lost. If it's not going to be you, then," Riku's mouth twisted bitterly. "Then it would be him—and I'd never be free." He let out a half-sob, half-laugh, and ran a hand over his face. He slumped slightly, eyes falling shut, and shook his head a little. "I'm glad it's you…I'm glad it's you and not some stranger I'd have to…pretend with…" his voice wavered.
"Oh god," Sora choked out. "I can't believe I'm even considering this…we're friends, Riku! Friends! You don't…you don't sleep with your friends…"
~…I think I love you,~ Riku thought, and kept it to himself, his mouth twisted faintly. It wouldn't help to say that particular thought. The choking shuddery feeling seemed to surround him; he wanted to cry, and knew he wouldn't. "I'm sorry," he whispered into the silence. He watched how his hands shook, curled on his lap, a warm golden color against the cooler silks.
Sora squeezed his eyes shut against the image of Riku before him, vulnerable and alluring—now that his mind had been refocused on the problem, he couldn't seem to stop thinking about it. Panic nibbled at him, as he grabbed handfuls of his hair and tugged to get his bearing. "God, Riku—" he sighed. "No, I'm not even thinking. I keep forgetting that you've been stuck here for a year, and that you've had to deal with all this shit, and…"
~Oh man—I don't even know what I'm doing…~ the thought flashed through his head. ~But…it'd be okay, wouldn't it? It's not that bad, I mean—it could be worse, right?~
~I-I can do this, at least, cuz he's my friend, right?~
He exhaled suddenly. ~Not because I want to…because it's gotta be done, and it's gotta be me and-and…~
Sora couldn't finish the thought, only sighed in defeat as his hands left his head. "Riku," he whispered. They were separated by only a foot or so, the bed pressed against Sora's back. "We're going to leave by dawn, okay?" He watched how the hands tightened slightly, the stifled flinch. He heard the uttered "Alright" and heard the distress. Sora closed his eyes briefly, and muttered a curse.
"Oiy, look," he began, scooting forward nervously. "Riku?" he brushed fingers against the exposed cheek, trying to get the boy to look at him. "Riku…this is kinda tough for me, okay?"
Silver hair shifted, as Riku shifted slightly and he caught a glimpse of cerulean eyes that were darker greenish color in the candlelight.
"Riku—I've never had the chance to, um, do anything with anyone. And you're my best friend—it's scary because I'll hurt you or something and you're messed up already—"
Eyes narrowed in sudden insult, and the boy opened his mouth to respond. Sora slid a hand up to cover his mouth, his face serious. "I mean it," he said firmly. "Things that we went through…messed me up, and I'm betting it happened to you. They made you a slave—I don't want to hurt you any more, okay?"
Riku reached up to drag the hand away, eyes indiscernible, and murmured, "You talk too much." He relaxed his grip on the wrist as he leaned forward, nudging his head against Sora's shoulder, but didn't let it go. He let out a shuddery sigh, unable to decide if he was relieved or excited or sad—too many things were jumbled inside. Too many things were twisted and out of place. The free hand floated up to rest on his shoulder, warm breath against his neck, and he felt a trembling pleasure.
"Thank you," he whispered under his breath. "For doing this…for coming here…"
Sora didn't reply. He didn't have to.
For a long while they sat there in that position, huddled against each other, slowly getting used to the sensation of the other body, the physical reality of the situation. A thumb stroked soft patterns on the wrist of the young Keyblade Master, hair tickling gently on the exposed skin of the shoulder. The candles flickered, shadows jumping harmlessly, as Sora leaned his head against the other boy.
He swallowed, clearing his throat to finally say, "So…um…" ~What now?~ he wanted to ask. ~What do we do?~
Riku sighed, a tinge of laughter hidden within the sound. The sensation of breathing sent shivers down his neck, making his twitch. A mouth moved against his skin, lipping gently.
"Well," Riku whispered. "I suppose we should enjoy it, right?" He eased his tongue out to taste the skin, lightly, and felt another shudder.
"S-sure," Sora responded. His head slide over to allow more room, enjoying the sensation and mildly frightened. He wasn't a stranger to kissing, or to a gentle caress—but it was different. It was Riku.
~A half-naked sexy Riku,~ his mind piped up.
~Yeah,~ he agreed, and sighed as the tongue slid in a small circle. Sharp teeth nipped at the skin, the fingers curled around his wrist tightening absently, pulling them closer. Riku moved his other hand around the waist and gripped at the soft material, his mouth wet and warm against the junction of the neck and shoulder. He sucked lightly, feeling his own breathing quicken. Sora's head lolled, a soft sound deep in his throat. An arm slid around his shoulders, shallow gasps stirring his silver hair.
~Kiss him,~ a part of him urged.
Riku drew back enough to see the flushed face, the half-lidded eyes a deep midnight blue. He pulled a hand up to cup the side of Sora's face, searching for something in those eyes, in the face, that he wasn't sure of. He didn't know what he was looking for—but it didn't matter. Sora parted his mouth under Riku's fingers, breath moist, and merely waited.
~Kiss him!~
Leaning slightly, seeing those eyes fall shut even as his own closed, Riku pressed his mouth to Sora, and kissed him softly, with light pressure. He didn't know if he was afraid of actually kissing him, of touching that body—
But he was surprised into squeaking as a tongue flashed heat between his lips and into his mouth. Sora made a greedy noise, his hand sliding through the hair to cup the back of the head, and opened his mouth wider. Rapid warmth went through him in jagged swirls as he met the tongue with his own, pressing back with equal demand. Breathing degenerated into gasping, then held in heedless passion.
When they broke apart, hands skimming over the lines of the body, Riku crooked a smile at the other boy, and whispered, "You're gonna have to be on top," before he kissed him again with an open mouth.
Sora merely smirked, as he was nudged rather pointedly towards the bed behind him. "So what else is new?"
~A/N~ There is more. Go a href="; here /a to get the uncut.