I'd like to begin by apologizing for the inconsistency of my uploads. As a college student who simultaneously works to pay bills, this work is written in a very narrow time span. There are instances when writing comes quicker to me than others. And on those days where the creativity isn't working the way it should, I make a point of editing the bits that I have accomplished. I usually try to remain a few chapters ahead of what I release so that I may make corrections or ensure that things are progressing in a logical manner. This story is my baby. And I want it to be amazing for all of you. Cheers! Now, without further ado. This is for the real ones.

~Sticky

Chapter 7:

Axel's arresting green orbs gleamed with secrets; truths entombed within his soul. My fingers contracted against the timber under me, and all my mental strength reached out, imploring my mind to worm its way into his box of tightly hidden truths, pleading for a glimpse into what his brain was frantically shielding. Like a field mouse, his viper eyes hypnotized me. A less naïve portion of my psyche was shouting desperately from deep below, creeping up behind my eardrums, urging me to simply leave, but I found it difficult to hear past the erratic rhythm of my heart. Yet, foolishly, my blood flowed, my lungs expanded, and my heartbeat, all things magnetized by him.

His focus wanders across my face. He must have been too inebriated to recognize the absolute unabashed disbelief that was emblazoned across it. From the intensity of my breathing, I felt dehydrated, as if I had never swallowed a solitary drop of water in my entire existence. I lost mobility in my limbs in wake of his thrilling comment, and I racked my mind for a sensible response.

'I can make you come if you'd like.'

These words were declared by Axel. High and mighty, devout Axel. The words kept floating about my skull, and the inflection he used had my body's endocrine system on heightened alert. He delivered the idea with a seductive and silky voice, squarely in my face, unwavering as though the closeness did not disgust him in the least. I want to beg him to have his way with me. My common sense, on the other hand, was ready to deny me this delusion. My brain was always prepared to shoot down any ideas related to my nemesis. On an ordinary day, the green-eyed god's cognitive process would be identical. My fingernails dig into the table's surface, and I regain my senses.

"You're kidding." I put it simply and my lashes bat at him, displaying my stupefied reaction. "You can't be serious." I protested, for this was Axel, the son of a homophobic and snobbish preacher. I could not wrap my brain around the suggestion. He had to be pulling on my—much shorter—leg.

"As serious as taxes." His sharp canines are peeking out from below his cunning smirk, and I fear a heart attack right here. There was so much to consider, such as the implications of consenting to his request and the repercussions of this once-in-a-lifetime opportunity. It was not clearly evident what had triggered his overwhelming urge to get me off, but I wanted to avoid missing out on the chance to scratch a very profound itch that had reappeared since his return into my life. Alas, this round of imaginary 'right and wrong' is won by the cherub on my shoulder, and I press my hand on his breast to make way for my imminent exit to my bed chamber.

"You're drunk." I remind him. I thought I had a decent concept of how the vermillion haired man felt about homosexual people. But at the time, I did not want him to imagine that simply because gay guys are scarce in our town, I would succumb to taking advantage of someone who was inebriated. I have made several mistakes, many of them recently. I refused to add this to the list.

"M' not so much anymore." He says, and I can hear truth in his remarks. The alcohol must have worn off; there is a faint odor of it in the air, but nothing excessive. And his irises were not as glassy as they had been in the manor house's laundry room. Such details, however, were not worth the risk. This evening, Axel and I had made some progress, and my entire body was swaying to get nearer to the redhead, to dissolve into him, smell him, and taste him properly. Instead, I caught myself employing formerly buried control.

"Believe it or not, I have a few extra morals lying about, and 'not so much' leaves a bitter taste on my tongue." I shake my head in dismay, not at his stubborn refusal to give up, but at my own reluctance to turn down such an enticing offer. My palm quakes against his chest, my gaze fastened on the measured rising and falling of his torso. His body is engulfing me in sweltering heat, and I purse my lips and shut my eyelids, unable to say goodbye to his body resting so intimately in my personal bubble.

"Look at me." He whispers, and my eyes widen at the sweetness imbuing his voice. The hand that is not in charge of bearing his weight is brought to my chin. His fingertips capture my jaw, coaxing me to properly fix him. His expression is revealing that he can read straight through me, and he notes, "Bury your sentiments; your confidence is visibly dithering."

Fuck. How poetic.

I release a garbled moan and my bottom lip quivers, forming a forlorn pout, as I plead, "Axel, don't toy with me—this isn't some game."

"You're correct. I've had my fill of those for the evening, wouldn't you agree?" He unveils an amiable grin and the heat from his exhale flutters across my lips. The night's selected spirits add smoky and honey undertones to his breath, and I can almost taste him. "Have you had enough fun for the evening?" His voice is probing while his lenses peer at me urgently for a genuine reply.

My words correspond to his demand for my sincerity, and I answer, "No," with eager anticipation. There was zero need for more deliberation, no need for my trembling palm to push him further away. His body was closing in on mine, and with slow poise, his perfect lips capture my own. The progression was unforeseen, as was the entire situation, given the three consecutive years of silence. His arms were curled around my abdomen. I sink into his embrace like a ragdoll, wallowing in the thrill of his long, muscular limbs seizing my body in the tightest squeeze I have ever felt in my time on earth.

Oh God, this must be a dream. Axel cannot actually be kissing me.

I can barely control my body but instinctually trace my hands down the borders of his triceps. Our shared kiss was propelled suddenly by untamed passion, and soon his enormous hands were skimming across my back, studying the curvature. An exhale departs his lips, and his tongue moves delicately across my mouth. My jaw relaxes, and the kiss erupts with staggering thirst. With Axel, one kiss would never be enough.

More please.

The sore sentiments that this knowledge evokes in me form a whirlpool of reactions in my stomach. And like a thick pill, I forcefully attempt to swallow them down. His body sways over mine, and his olive pants have a noticeable rigidity to them. My dick is excruciatingly aching from all the contact. Just a few voiced lines, a smoldering glance, and a kiss from Axel has me primed and wanting, my dick weeping with pre-cum and ready to burst. My hatred for him is a dull thrum in the back of my head. The painful emotion mixing with reemerging tortured thoughts, and I force him abruptly a step back by the shoulders.

"It wouldn't be fair...I won't take advantage of you." My breathing is ragged with want as I scramble for words. "You couldn't possibly want this." I lament. The redheaded beauty allows me to sheepishly cross him so that I may make my way to the kitchen for a drink to distract my mouth. However, my entire point of view transitions when my spine knocks against a wall roughly for the second time this evening. My forehead is tickled by fiery tresses while Axel extends before me, his forearms flush against the wallpaper, pushing us as close as possible. I am hopelessly captured by his taut and imposing physique. He cranes his neck over me, bringing his face closer to mine once again.

"I dare you to repeat that." The tenor was demanding, and I dive myself headfirst into the challenge.

"You don't want this." My persistence seeps through my words, and I glance away to suppress my doubts from slicing through his convictions.

"Hmm, is that so?" he pauses, and our torsos press flush against one another, his arousal thrumming against me for emphasis, before concluding, "This suggests otherwise. I'm not delicate, Roxas. Neither are you, so abandon the false pretenses and have a good time. Isn't that what you were searching for all night?"

"I was, but you refused to let me have it." My response sounded whinier than I had intended. I was vision is fixed on the table against the wall to my left. Our prior interaction had left the envelopes and photos in disarray.

"Yet, here I am, serving it up to you on a silver plate. So, why tiptoe now—would you rather have the blonde?" Deep draws and sighs stir the cascading vermilion hairs, and they caress at my cheek and neck, the sensation is ignored in order to experience a more profound response, astonishment.

Am I stir crazy, or does he sound jealous?

"What does Seifer have to do with any of this?" I say while snapping my attention to him so that I may fully digest his oncoming logic.

"Well, wasn't that precisely what you were doing with him, 'having fun'?" he concludes, his tone drenched in self-assurance.

"I had every means of doing so. That is, before you wandered in, and we could get down to business…" I am scoffing with displeasure due to his flagrant indifference for how deceptive his remarks were. I pause to recollect earlier encounters with my sexual exploits and how Axel has now found himself in the middle of it on numerous occasions, and I add, "…Again." For some reason, his expression is dull and flat, and I succumb to the impulse to accentuate the obvious by finishing, if exaggeratedly, "For like the billionth time!"

"Hmm, would my candor help you decide whether I'm deserving of a bit of fun?" he proffers.

"Your line of questioning is baffling—but go for it." I mumble. This time, there was no method for me to retreat if his words became edged. However, I wasn't opposed to slugging him in the gut if I needed to get away.

"Hah, first and foremost, don't judge me too harshly and hear me out. I was very drunk, and Tidus said he saw you walking towards the hall. I searched and then I saw a light from a break in the door. There you both were—they should really fix the latch on the door—by the way." He tosses out a sigh. His green orbs sink to the ground. An arm slips down the wall to my left and comes to a standstill near my shoulder, the other palm soothes his scalp, as it usually does when he is nervous.

"What are you getting at, Axel?" I ask. The pads of my toes tap against the flooring, and his glazed irises unglue from below and leisurely travel up my body before locking onto my impatient stare. The fingertips that had been sifting his vibrant strands of hair delicately returned to mimic those on the wall. In the fraction of a second his facial expressions shift from timid to yearning and my belly knots on itself.

"This time I just watched you. I was so focused on the both of you. Initially, I was struggling with how I should interrupt, but then I became trapped by the vision of you. I'm not sure why, Rox. All I knew in that moment…was that I needed to be the one who was…touching you."

"O-oh my God." I stutter in awe, his revelation eroding my ability to craft a coherent sentence, and my entire body spasms with longing. He scoffs at my use of the word 'God' and shifts his gaze to the side, seemingly torn between condemnation and longing. I should be enraged and offended, yet my blood is boiling from another all too familiar impulse. His disclosure was rather unexpected. I never anticipated he would divulge such aspirations to me after so many years. This entire night is starting to seem like an aberration.

So instead of interrupting us, he decided to watch? And the only reason he stopped us was because…he wanted to touch me? That sounds like borderline jealousy.

"I realize it's reckless, but please…" I am not sure how he did it, but he crept even closer to me, and in my stupor, I became as motionless as a sculpture. Pressed between his solid chest and the unyielding wall, there was not any leeway for my lungs to expand. His nose nuzzled my cheek, and he gruffly whispered into the skin below my ear lobe, "...Let me touch you, Rox."

My mental capabilities collapsed, resulting in me letting out a strangled gasp before groaning into him, "You're making it hard to reject you." I was so near to him that I was bathing in his aroma, showering in all things Axel, and I was wallowing, scrambling to come up with any justification to keep refusing him.

But his voice was immediately rumbling into my cheek, his lips muttering on the reddened, feverish skin. "Then stop denying me. Let me touch you."

Oh God, Axel begging is so divine.

Round two has ended and the invisible and entirely fictitious devil on my shoulder claims victorious.

Exhaling the air captive in my throat, I level my voice and sigh, "Alright." Tilting my head back, I fervently prayed above me that I was not making an enormous mistake, and that all the judgmental eyes looking down from Heaven had seen my efforts to hold back, right before all the will in my body wholly submitted to him. My azure lenses meet his vivid green ones, and like a rope unraveling I succumb to him. As he surveys my heaving frame, I swoon, "Touch me."

Axel's arm pulls from the wall like a sinewy branch caught in a leisurely breeze, and his hold promptly connects with my hip, angling it towards his own and bringing me to my toes. He pushes his hardened groin into me while bending in close. His firm thigh knocks aside my legs, and his knee nestles in the apex of my weary extremities. His chest rumbles against mine as he lets out a satisfied grunt against my wicking neck. With a calculatingly sedate tilt of his pelvis, the redhead gives me plenty of time to relish the impression of his dick, and my own cock surges beneath his. I can tell it is remarkable in size without seeing or physically caressing it.

My arms slip between our colliding bodies, and I seize his collar, yanking his mouth to mine. With years of worsening aggression and resentment, I force his mouth open and thoroughly taste him. My enemy's mouth has a hint of liquor tainting his spicy and subtle flavor, something akin to butter pecan ice cream and I curse the universe. My tongue sweeps across the ridges and plush skin of his palate. I hoist my right ankle and run my thigh over his leg, hooking the length of it across his ass, drawing his waist even closer to mine. I gyrate into him brazenly, the new pose levying so much force on our writhing forms.

"I wanna see it, Ax. Show me your dick." I mumble, nipping at his bottom lip between our sloppy kisses. I think nothing of the nickname that was comfortably dragged out of my subconscious.

"Ngnn, such foul language." Axel's breathing is uneven and gruff against my lips as we part from our shared kiss, and I display my immorality by methodically unclasping his pants. I expected him to lash out, put a halt to my ambitions, and tell me that what we were about to do was wicked. That God had not meant for two men to have this level of familiarity. I peek at him for confirmation, and I notice that his intoxicating green orbs are transfixed on my fingertips easing his zipper. I withdraw his shaft from the black cotton underwear with as much grace and incisiveness as I can muster through shaky appendages, giving him no opportunity to have reservations. For a brief time, I found myself envying him. God has once again confirmed that Axel has a full hand in the game of life. The staggering dick was proportional to the lofty creature himself. His girth was the most dramatic of discoveries, he is blessed, and aside from his face, this was my new favorite feature about him.

"Fuck, you're so big." Pure craving sweeps away the jealousy, and I unintentionally let out a low and prolonged moan at the image of its perfection adorned in equally vivid red hair. The literal cherry on top. "I want it inside of me so badly."

"That good, huh?" He says with a short appreciative snicker.

"Mhm…but don't get cocky." I chide.

"Should we make a comparison?" He extends his hand to the button on my jeans, but I swat it away before he can undo them.

"There's not much to compare." I begin, but memories from our youth knock me back in time.

When we were eleven, Axel and I found ourselves alone in this run-down shanty we deemed our fort. It was dismal and disgusting, with crumbling roofing, crooked windows, and a disintegrating foundation but it was our paradise. We studied one another's naked bodies that day out of pure curiosity. He was only an inch taller than me at that age, with coltish, too pale legs and similarly gangly arms. Sex had become a major topic among the students at school, and us being naïve and foolish we placed bets to see who had the larger penis. Not only were we closer in height, but the size of the aforementioned organ was nearly identical.

I laugh at the notion of how much has changed since then. Between the broken friendship, personality differences, and now-apparent genetic amplitudes, the odds are overwhelmingly stacked in favor of the redhead, and this played as a reminder that God truly favors him above myself. As much as I resent Axel for outperforming me in those other areas of my life, I nevertheless drool at the view of his weapon of mass destruction hanging between his thighs. "I'll have you know—I'm also above average. You just happen to be larger than I am." I playfully grimace, then grudgingly pull my attention away from his exquisite dick.

"Much larger, I'm presuming, based on your reaction." His lips form a conceited leer.

God, he's so sexy. I hate him more for it. His stupid perfect height. Stupid perfect body. Stupid perfect lips. Stupid-fucking-perfect dick.

My ocean blue orbs interlock with his field green ones, and I trail my hands down my unkempt shirt, then down my bare hips, to the zipper of my jeans. As he watches me slowly undress, his lips curve into a sumptuous grin. My pants and boxers drag slowly down my thighs, barely reaching past my knees. With only one leg freed, I feel a tight grip on the base of my naked ass cheeks, swiftly hoisting me above as though the intention was meant to send me into Heaven.

My already abused spine strikes with the wall, and my arms and legs instinctively loop around him for security. The egotistical smirk on his lips remains intact. In an overpowering demonstration of dominion, his lips come perilously near to smothering me completely. His pelvis rolls masterfully, and I mewl into the vulgar kiss. This time, the thrusting is less benevolent, and he is indoctrinating me on his technique of sexual ferocity. My entire body is dissolving. Our vigorous pelvic rutting leaves a glossy sheen of perspiration on our skin; our shared saliva smears our lips and tongues; and our dicks dribble obscenely over each other. This salacity's moistness and physical pollution was palpable throughout my living room. Our sticky bodies and slippery cocks frantically gliding against each other resonate all the way up to the high ceiling, the sound making my heart race and my toes curl. His breathing is heavy and rapid, similarly to my own. My body is squirming in accordance with Axel's robust thrusts and commanding hold. In this moment, my writhing form is at his beck and call. His tongue is worshiping my mouth; no nuance has been neglected. It ravenously laps at my own velvety muscles and swipes across my teeth and gums, and the unexpected eroticism of it all has me choking on a cry.

I partly readied myself for Axel to halt his actions at any moment, realizing the crisis he was in and how he could not allow it to go on. That God might very well smite us in our newfound frisky union. I take back all my previous prayers and implore the divinities not to let this moment cease, my flesh prickling with pleasure and my stomach clenching with the impending anguish. But it was becoming increasingly difficult to keep it in. These muddled mixes of emotions were erupting.

"Mmm, you're becoming a mess, Roxy." He assesses with a moan. The wood dowels echo a jarring noise across the tiles below us, momentarily blotting out the lurid sounds of spit and sticky cocks slicking across one another. Our hips were dangerously rocking into each other, his fists squeezing my ass and his nails sinking into the surface, and the intensity from his kiss was making me disoriented. "Hah, you're so wet." Our lips are no longer linked, and the moonlight glistens in the mess of our mouths.

"Ahh—ahgn! God…feels so good, don't stop…Ax…I need…hahn!" My lips paint my pleas against the arch of his cocky grin, ecstasy overpowering all physicality. My head smacks against the drywall, and Axel groans, his lips cascade across my throat. His tongue begins lapping at the perspiration soaking my jugular and the muscle slithers along the fragile veins, leaving no region untouched. I feel those hypnotic canines scrape against the crook of my neck before he bites me so abruptly, and my legs convulse with splendor. Nothing could be sweeter than the passion I am presently undergoing. Neither Luxord nor Seifer. No one, not even Riku. When Axel breathes into me, peers down at me, or touches me like this, they all fail to exist. He pivots his head while releasing a throaty groan as I flex my hips lasciviously in an attempt to persuade him to never stop defiling my body.

"I have a secret of my own." He says between low repressed grunts.

"Nnn—that is?" Casting my gaze to his, I consider teasing him for using my childhood moniker. I weigh it against the admiring connotations and opt to disregard it.

"Tonight…isn't the first time I've had an uncontrolled…ngnn…need to possess you." He confesses and suddenly a rush of air whips against my flushed skin as my frame is maneuvered to the formerly beaten table in the foyer. As Axel looms overhead, my vertebrae coincide with the hardwood and the tips of my toes skim the ground. He is stabilizing his ponderous physique by seizing the furniture's ledge and the muscle below the creamy skin of his arm flexes in alluring patterns. His free hand spirals beneath my left knee, lifting my one leg to his bicep. Our hips are unmoving, but our gleaming cocks twitch eagerly against each other. His dick is so prodigious and teeming that it smothers mine, a warning of how caustic fucking him could be. My thoughts are being swamped by the very daydream as we ogle at each other for what seems like a lifetime.

The yield of the atmosphere is oppressive, but so is our dreamy panting. My back is fastened to the wall, icy wood at the base of my backbone, one leg drooping off the furniture, another dangling off the apogee of his arm anchoring him against the wall squarely to my left. This could have been the perfect opportunity for him to retreat and convalesce. Yet, he stoops a half-inch in front of my brow, his lashes heavy, vibrant green orbs glossy with arousal. Instead of our lips clashing like moments before, he steady's himself and his hip bones impact with mine bearishly. His aroma and touch enslave me, and I am riveted by Axel's carnal stare. When he delivers a particularly savage rut, his cock's soft crown evocatively rubs the delicate skin beneath my tip, and I squeal.

"F-fuck—ohmygod—fuck! I-I can't, Axel." My words are wobbly as I whine, exhilarated by the severity of his thrusts. I cling to the sweat-soaked linen at his shoulders, my fingernails sinking into the grooves. He removes his grip from the table and squeezes the contour of my pelvic bone. My levied leg sways over his pulsing arm, the twin extremities thrashing equally from Axel's vigorous oscillations. His pace is sharp and vicious as his body moves in tandem with mine, obsessing over a burning need to possess each other. My body begins to twist and quiver frantically as his ruthless frottage lures me to the summit.

"Hahh—you can't take it anymore, huh?" With his query, his pelvis jolts forward, and all I want is for him to slip inside of me.

I did not much care about preparation or comfort; all I wanted was for him to rail into me with the same fervor that he was exhibiting right now. My heart jumps as I consider him pinning me down and mercilessly fucking me, as though he abhors me. Catching sight of our torsos, I watch as his abdominal muscles tense, rippling with perspiration that is streaming down to his enflamed, swelling cock that is pinning my own abused erection to my wincing stomach.

I extend a shaky hand and delicately wrap it around the leaking shafts. Axel's pupils are blown with ecstasy at the effort, and he snaps his hips, driving our uniting reddened cocks into the fist I was creating. His grip jerks my hips away from him so I may mimic his movement, and the swift sensation of my fingers coinciding with his withdrawing cock causes my thighs to tremble. His body whips forward and he elevates my pelvis to match the motion. He guides our cocks to fuck my palm faster, and I slump into a simpering heap. My idle arm raises toward the surface behind me, my hand roving across the parchment design, seeking for something I can grab. My fingernails skim Axel's forearm, and he lowers his hand immediately to bind my wrist against the wall.

"Ngnn, you feel so good, Rox." Axel affirms, his darkened brow straining, his head low, with flaming red hair waving in between us. His husky tone makes my toes curl and my abdomen flex. His voice will surely be my downfall. I fling back my head, astounded by the abrupt and overwhelming volume of come that erupts out of my prick-hole. My body convulses, my head wrenched against the wall, and my back arches so high that the viscous flowing liquid squirts up to my neck, dribbling down the collar of my shirt. "Without warning, hm?" He lets out a throaty chuckle, perversely licking his kiss-swollen lips and then groaning, "That looks like it felt splended—ngnn—your entire body is shaking."

My sight sweeps across his features. He is still humping into my body, despite the fact that my jerking hand had skulked to my side, and my body felt inert and devoid of strength. I cast a glance at Axel's still-gorged dick, and it was my turn to lick my lips as if I were being served the most decadent meal. His movements come to a halt, his hand frees my midsection and moves to reveal his phone from his pocket to observe the time. In a gesture of resignation, he places it on the table, runs his hands through his hair and releases a strangled sigh. He lowers my shaking leg from above, and I am struck with a very brisk chill, before he adjusts his disheveled clothes and walks off to the kitchen. The light comes on, and I am urgently trying to recover my bearings when I observe him return with a cloth and a glass of water.

Bless this man.

The redhead is squarely between my knees again and I bend forward to grasp the drink and towel. We maintain visual contact while I take long chugs of water. Immediate alleviation eliminates the brittle and scratchy discomfort in my throat. It had been eerily quiet since he made his assessment. I push my buttocks off the damp wood and my socks settle on the tile underneath me. I dabbed at the mess on my stomach and decided to remove my shirt completely. Axel's still peering at me with a vacant exterior. I try not to dwell on the fragrance of him swaddling me or the chill that has abated since his return to my side.

I offer the glass to him, and he appears mystified before he lifts his shoulders as if to suggest, 'Why not' I tug my bottoms back to my hips and make some necessary adjustments. The redhead's concentration is elsewhere as he deposits the empty glass on the table before the towering man saunters into the living room and sinks onto the couch. He settles, cocking his head back and exhaling audibly. He had returned his cock to his boxers discreetly, but he had not bothered to fasten his pants. His lengthy member is still standing tall and brimming with need. I sidle up to the space between his knees, nibbling my lower lip. His field of vision is directed to the ceiling; therefore, I lower myself until I am kneeling before him.

"What are you up to, Roxas?" He questions sans looking at me.

"Something dirty, of course." I say, my fingertips gently brushing his spread kneecaps before I lower my hands into a full grip. I languidly drift my palms up his firm thighs, massaging them until my knuckles rest against the crease of his groin.

"Hmm, whatever it is, it isn't necessary. I'm not sure I'll enjoy it anyhow."

"Ha-ha, you'll like this better than what we were just doing."

"Rox, I followed through on my word. You've got to come. So, let's call it a night, shall we?" His head falls forward, his orbs are following my slow and seductive caresses. The skin of his lips is in a tense line, which appears stressed, as if his words and desires are duking it out.

"I prefer things to be fair, stupid." The pads of my fingers tickle the contour of his still-clothed cock, and it swells forth. "Now it's my turn to please you, Axel." My grasp on the band of his briefs is light and teasing. I hear his breath snag as the fabric drags coarsely along his shaft. My thumbs go to massage modest circles on the bulging twin sacs as the rest of my appendages stretch to the base of the slippery, distended pillar of superbly crafted tissues. Axel's face is rigid and unchanging, and I can see that he is plagued by his thoughts. His fingers spasm with conflicted emotions, as if he wanted to either push me down or pull me to my feet. Before I miss my chance to taste him, swallow him, and praise his exquisite baby-maker, I lean forward and prod the slit at his tip with my tongue, lapping at the seeping droplets of come and whimpering at his flavor. "I can make you come if you'd like." My tone is dripping with libido as I repeat his own offer to him, and he groans in return, skull collapsing into the chair behind him. "I'll take that as a 'yes, please'."

My lips place a chaste kiss on his still dripping slit before releasing a breathy moan onto it. His pelvic muscles tense, and his breath seizes over my head. I lick the fluids off my lips, and the flavor combines with his musky aroma, transporting me to another dimension where all tenants are Axel. Raising on my knees, I tighten a grasp on the base of his cock and glide my other palm up and down.

"Fu—" He stops himself from cursing, but the effect on me remains the same.

"You want more?" I provoked. My hand teasingly pumps his throbbing member.

"Yes." He hisses.

"Then tell me you want more." Smarmily, I demand.

"I want more." With his teeth clinched and his hands pulled into tight fists by his sides, the redheaded man bends his will to me.

My mouth settles upon the throbbing organ as I whisper, "Nn, as you wish." I grant him no mercy and plunge into an unrelenting demonstration of deviancy, engulfing as much of his massive cock into my mouth as I can. I gag faintly as his head slides past my uvula. Axel hisses once again, his hips straining to lift against my jaw. I hollow my cheeks and suck hard. He groans from the thrilling sensation, thrusting into my mouth again. I splay one hand across his stomach, requesting for him not to continue the action. My other hand works in tandem with my mouth, gripping at the flesh that will never be able to fill the small space. I hasten my attention, tears welling around my lids as I force him deeper into my throat.

"Ngn…more, Roxy." He repeats breathily.

His fingers tangle in the light golden tresses atop my head, and he tugs with just enough vigor that I whimper. My chin is drenched with drool from the dripping cavern that is luring the come from his cock. Axel's hold strengthens, and I withdraw my palm from his waist, resting it on his flinching thigh muscles. My gaze travels across his figure; his shirt was raised to his diaphragm, which was fluttering with heaving intakes of air, and suddenly my orbs meet lethal green ones, and I recognize the instant Axel's endurance bursts. His lips curve into something feral, and he peers through lust-filled eyes as his grasp crowns my head, then his hips rise and fall with equal tenacity. As his lower body humps up and down, I savor the speed of his cock's slick flesh skating along the rim of my lips and throat. When he groans that he is almost there, I am nearly suffocating from the depth he was piercing.

"Mmn, like that…you look so good, hah." His pace is merciless as he declares his appraisal of my indecent appearance, and my tongue relaxes along the underneath of his dick, cupping the invader as he uses my face as a fuckhole. The base of his cock is uselessly desperate to burrow itself against my sloppy lips. "You look so filthy, Roxy. It's going to make me come. Ngnn…want it down your throat? Seems like you do." As he admires me, his lips create an alluring sneer, leading my eyes to summersault to the back of my skull in total euphoria. The veins of his length flares, and his cock jerks. When he penetrates deeper, he is suddenly squirting his juices and covering the confines of my throat, my jaw sags and his hands cradle the base of my head. My orifice milks him dry, he locks me there and my neck tenses from the strain of needing air. My gagging and flinching airways couple with his dick spasms. "Fuc—so damn good." He growls, freeing my head and easing his dick out of my mouth. "I apologize; I should have asked if you were okay with swallowing." He lets out a content sigh.

At his statement, I gulp down what is lodged in my now parched throat. I try not to focus on how delicious he sounds when he curses, and I force myself to respond, "S' fine, I enjoyed it….all of it. "

"I was able to tell." Axel chortles faintly, and his respiration quells. "You're so skilled, do I even want to know how?"

"Probably not." I answer.

"Well, now I am sleepy, thanks."

"And thank you for sticking to your word." I state, releasing a short laugh.

"And what was that?" His voice is groggy with exhaustion and satiation.

"That you'd make me come." I mumble humbly.

"S' no problem." The green-eyed Adonis slumps over to the arm of the couch and kicks his feet up before his breathing bottoms out.

With a low chuckle, my battered throat vibrates, and I climb to my feet and walk over to the forest green recliner in search of a throw blanket to cover his figure. His slumbering appearance still has the same frontage as when we were younger. His velvety lips arch into a delicate pout as a small puff of breath exits from his nose. He reclines on his side with his arms folded over his chest, and fiery red hair is strewn across the pastel silk sofa pillow. I mentally congratulate myself on a job well done before traversing the room to the empty glass on the entryway table. My cheeks swell at the thought of Axel abusing both my body and the furnishings. Then my motivation shifts to cleaning up the mess we have just made. I had previously wondered if Axel had any sexual desire, and those doubts were resolved tonight.

I wash the mess off my face and pour myself another glass of water. It was nearly midnight and I retire to my bedroom before my parents arrive. My body was heavy with fatigue, but my mind was speeding through the night's events and where they concluded. I was beaming without realizing it, and when I eventually fell asleep, my smile joined me as well.

I squint at my surroundings, drowsy and with limbs like gelatin. A soft morning light filters through my navy woven drapes into my chamber. My body shudders when I stretch my arms above my head and yawn. Last night was not a dream. And now that I am less sex-driven and more lucid, an uneasy lump of dread is taking up residence in my gut. I am apprehensive about seeing the redhead. The thought that he may accost me again when I walk downstairs has all the hairs on my body on edge. I emerge from bed and go to the dresser to get some lounge wear; then swiftly dress into the white shirt and grey sweatpants I had selected. The taste of booze that remained in the back of Axel's throat gave way to other negative reminders. Maybe the man from my current fantasies lied about not being intoxicated, and I was too caught up in my sick fantasy to drive him away. Shame and remorse wash over me as queries flood my consciousness.

I believed things could not get much more complicated, but I was sorely mistaken. Things are considerably more complex after last night. Our previous conversations were far from healthy, and yesterday afternoon was the first time in a long time that we could be around one another comfortably. My lack of control tampered with everything. However, the night was incredible. We did not make it all the way, but it was still spectacular.

Hell, would Axel even be able to go all the way? Was he closeted like I am? He's known about my sexuality for years, so why not just tell me? So much time has been wasted.

Oh God.

Did he have feelings for me? If he did, could I return them?

Riku was my dearest and all-time best sex partner, and my affections for him never developed beyond sexual desire, so I was not sure I had capacity for romance. Fear jolted my subconscious, ringing out loud against the peaceful serenity of the early morning, encouraging me to let last night go as quickly as possible. It blazed through my consciousness that last night should never happen again. And I accepted. I needed to handle these issues today. With determination propelling my every step, I quickly slip on my socks and shoes and hurry downstairs to invite him out to breakfast, my treat while I advise him of my revelation. As I get to the top of the banister, however, Axel's sleeping figure is nowhere to be spotted. I scour the home for the missing visitor.

Wait, isn't he dating Namine?

"Are you looking for Axel, sweetheart? He left not long ago." My mother calls out from the hall below the overhang.

Fuck. So much for healthy communication.

AN: I have edited this chapter for what feels like a billion times. Every paragraph is engraved in my mind. As usual I have no beta, so please pardon any errors. I decided while editing the next few chapters after this that it was good enough to be the final product. I hope you enjoyed. 3