-1Disclaimer: Everyone in here is property of Square-Enix and Disney. not mine; no profit.
AN: So, here we have another little one-shot I liked. I hope everything's all IC and crap. I may end up taking this down eventually, 'cause it's not that great. But I really like the pairing. I've never played CoM so I'm just going on what I know from other fics and from what I've read on various LJ comms.
Crit's welcome. It's enjoyed, actually. x3
Just Sex.
Dead punk Girl
-x-
Sex with Marluxia is hollow. Larxene never tried to get past it, or deny it, or view it as something it wasn't. It wasn't incredible, or earth shattering or so fucking amazing.
It was sex.
Sex was sex, and that was that.
After all, they weren't able to feel anything, and even if she could experience emotions, Larxene was sure she wouldn't love someone like Marluxia.
He's all tongue and teeth as he crawls on top of her, sucking and biting and touching, and she arches her back into that, playing it up for his sake alone. It's not like it doesn't feel good; Marluxia's always known how to touch her just right to make her body hum with pleasure.
But it's just sex. Nothing more, nothing less. It is, really, an unspoken agreement between them; it would be just sex for as long as it needed to be. Until they got their hearts. Then they would move on and whatever pitiful resemblance of a relationship would cease being. She didn't care, she refuses to care.
Larxene always cries out when he fucks her like she matters, like she's someone to him instead of just a shell. She does, in a sense, matter to him. Not really, not enough for him to love her. Not really. It wasn't like he could feel love.
But he can feel her beneath him, writhing, digging those talons of hers into his shoulders as her legs wrap around his middle, her hips thrusting into him to drive him deeper. He may not feel emotions, but Marluxia can feel pressure building at the base of his spine, feel heat surging lower.
She just grins up at him, cat-like and feral, her hair wild and messed from their activities,
"Hm."
"What?" He hisses, and Marluxia's fully aware that he fucking hates that smile of hers.
"Nothing. Just fuck me harder, you little prick."
He smirks and does as demanded, making her cry out in something that sounds like pain. But it's Larxene and pain is a foreign matter to her, as foreign as love.
She doesn't think that, even as a somebody, she knew love. She doesn't care; love is a waste of time.
Marluxia knows he felt love some time ago, somewhere in the back of his subconscious, he can remember it. He's asked her about it, and gotten a huff as an answer.
He doesn't dare ask again, because aside from sex, Larxene is none of his business.
It's just sex.
He cries out as he comes and she does, too, a howl of pleasure and delight. His weight sags onto her for only a moment before he pulls back and out, already reaching for his pants and jacket. She doesn't care if he leaves; let him. After all, it's just sex. Just sex; there's no emotional attachment, they don't have any.
"Tomorrow, then?"
His voice is slightly breathy and he's panting as he buttons his jeans.
"Tomorrow."
Her confirmation is quiet, and she adjusts her panties before smirking, that same feral grin as before.
"It's just sex, right?"
He has to ask.
"Right," She nods slightly.
"I thought so."
Sex with Marluxia is fucking hollow. She feels nothing when he slips between her thighs, be it with his body or just those strong fingers. He feels nothing when her mouth wraps around him and sucks him dry, or when he slides easily into her and thrusts.
It's nothing, they're nothing, and sex is just sex.
It'll always be just sex between them.