Interlude Five – Here In Your Arms
~ Part One ~
A mouth covered his, bringing with it the familiar flavor of tea that Vincent had never forgotten, not even in the sixteen year gap. It had been one of those memories that he had clung to, reminding himself over and over of the tiny things that struck a chord inside him of his lover and his past life. He parted his lips to let the slick tongue inside, enjoying the slow and gentle slide of Cid’s mouth over his.
Earlier had been the frantic and hurried lovemaking, the reminder of what they were to each other. The relief that they had found each other again. It was the hurried movements of men starved for the touch of one another, of being without one another for a time that seemed beyond comprehension. But now it was the time for something slow, something that would finally ease the loneliness that it seemed they had lived in for so long.
Vincent sighed contently, the sound issuing from his throat as he reached up and threaded his arms around Cid’s neck, arching his body closer to the warmth that hovered just above him. Cid was more than happy to comply, shifting his weight so that he pressed their erect groins together. He had to be careful not to apply too much weight lest he crush his lover’s delicate wings. One hand slid along the pale man’s side, calloused thumb ghosting over scars that weren’t there before he disappeared.
“You’re beautiful,” he whispered against Vincent’s lips, words nearly lost in the sounds of their heavy breathing.
Vincent’s hand traced along his lover’s back, ever mindful of his claws. “I’m not human,” he responded. He pressed himself closer to Cid, still unable to let go of the truth that they were finally together again. It seemed like a dream, that he had finally been freed from his nightmares.
“Doesn’t matter,” Cid answered succinctly as he pulled back far enough to look into uniquely colored crimson eyes. “You’re human where it counts.”
A surge of emotion for the man he had loved since he was old enough to understand what that meant rose up inside of Vincent. He swallowed back tears of pure relief, even if he didn’t really believe Cid’s words. He reached up with one hand, lightly cupping the side of Cid’s face. His fingers slid roughly over an unshaven jaw, but Vincent preferred it that way.
“Where it counts,” he repeated, the words coming out more of a question.
Desire simmered behind sky blue eyes as Cid nodded, turning his head to draw the claw-tipped fingers into his mouth. He gently rolled three of the digits around his tongue, nibbling on the skin and taking care not to cut himself on the sharpened nails. Vincent’s eyelids fluttered at the extremely sensual sensation and he shivered, his free hand tightening on Cid’s shoulder.
“I never stopped dreaming of you,” the winged man whispered, feeling the sudden need to say such things. They never were quite the lovey-dovey, sickening sweet couple like others, but they cared for each other in their own special way.
But with what Vincent had endured, what he had suffered and how much he had longed to be with Cid again, he felt the need to express his true feelings. “I’m sorry I didn’t listen to you and Zack.”
Cid let Vincent’s fingers slip from his mouth as he dipped his head down and kissed his lover, a slow and lingering kiss. He gently explored Vincent’s mouth with his tongue, sliding among each crevice and reminding himself of Vincent’s own unique flavor. He leaned forward on one hand before reaching between their bodies with the other.
His touch slid along Vincent’s side, fingers caressing over scarred skin as he glided down to rest on Vincent’s hip. His thumb dipped into the small hollow at the hipbone, calloused fingertip rubbing a circular motion. A murmur of content echoed in Vincent’s throat at the teasing touch as he arched closer to his lover.
“Wha’d I tell you bout ‘pologizin’?” Cid muttered as he drew away from the kiss. His fingers danced over pale flesh, sliding around to cup a shapely buttock. He shifted his hips forward, rocking their reawakened shafts together and sending a warm flush of arousal throughout his entire body.
Vincent moaned and tightened his grip, lightly digging his claws into Cid’s skin though the man didn’t seem to mind. “I’ve forgotten,” he panted, desire surging up inside of his body once more. Blood began to flood southwards, making it difficult to think.
Cid chuckled. “Then I’ll just have to remind you,” he murmured before drawing back from his lover.
The sudden loss of draping warmth startled Vincent and his eyes popped open. He hadn’t even realized he closed them. He shot his lover a strange look, trying not to pout in a far too prissy fashion, but Cid merely patted him on the thigh.
“Sit up,” he asked nicely, shifting on the bed slightly.
Still somewhat confused, Vincent rose to his knees, his wings fluttering behind him. They stretched with slow movements, as if glad to not be trapped beneath his body. Sometimes he swore they had a mind of their own. The bed dipped and Cid appeared behind him.
Calloused hands settled on Vincent’s hips as he was gently tugged backwards, his ass finding itself nestled on Cid’s lap, directly over a burgeoning arousal. One hand remained planted on Vincent’s hip, a thumb rubbing soothing circles, as the other rose up and brushed dark strands of hair aside. Stubble scraped along pale skin as Cid placed a warm, open-mouthed kiss to Vincent’s shoulder.
“Did I ever tell you that I have a secret fetish for fangs?” he wondered aloud, nudging at Vincent’s cheek with his nose.
The crimson-eyed man interpreted him correctly and turned his head, lining up their lips directly. Cid pressed forward, closing the mere inches between them and sealing their mouths together in a kiss. He slid his tongue into Vincent’s warm and moist mouth, striking the wet appendage across fangs which were like new territory for him to explore.
He could feel Vincent’s wings brushing against the bare skin of his chest, warm and velvety soft and Cid didn’t feel repulsed in the slightest. The appendages were as beautiful as the rest of his lover. And he planned on proving just that, sensing that Vincent was reluctant to believe he was human still.
Vincent moaned into his mouth, the sound coming out more like a deep-throated growl as one of Cid’s free hands worked between their bodies. His finger rubbed across Vincent’s anus, stroking along muscle already loosened from their earlier excursions. The digit slid inside easily and Cid crooked his finger, barely brushing it across Vincent’s prostrate.
His lover surged in his lap, shifting his hips to press backwards on the welcome intrusion as Cid continued to kiss him senseless, their tongues sliding on one another in a languorous fashion. Vincent’s hand fell on Cid’s thigh, gripping tightly and nearly drawing blood. His lover’s other hand crept around his body, skimming over ivory flesh before his fingers sought pale, pink nipples.
Cid brushed across the flattened discs, applying feather-light touches as his sex hardened swiftly. The head of his penis brushed across the soft skin of Vincent’s ass, leaving a streak of clear precome in its wake. His lover moaned encouragingly in his throat as Cid added a second finger, causing shockwaves of pleasure to reverberate through Vincent.
The winged man broke off the kiss with a wet smack and a sigh, his teeth nipping gently on Cid’s bottom lip. “Is this a new fetish?” he questioned teasingly, his body moving sinuously against Cid’s. Even his wings seemed to have picked up on the rhythm, settling gently on his back rather than moving restlessly.
Cid chuckled, trailing his lips over the exposed column of Vincent’s neck before moving to the nape, nuzzling the finer hairs there. “Does it matter?” he asked, removing his fingers from Vincent’s anus with a parting brush over the man’s prostrate.
Vincent surged in his lap, growling appreciatively. His tongue tracing light circles on the succulent flesh in front of him, Cid quickly stroked a palm over his arousal, spreading the precome. He was far too lazy to find the lube and truthfully, Vincent was still slick from the first time around not but moments before. His belly quivered in anticipation, his cock leaping with the remembrance of feeling Vincent’s tight heat wrapped around him.
“Less talking, more touching,” Vincent muttered, arching backwards towards Cid. Every muscle in his body was tensed in waiting, hovering on the precipice of desire.
Cid’s hand settled on Vincent’s hip, moving to guide his lover. “As you wish,” he murmured, pressing his lips to Vincent’s shoulder. He thrust upwards, pressing the head of his sex to Vincent’s stretched entrance. He teased the opening for several seconds and Vincent impatiently surged backwards, taking him deeply inside in one quick movement until he was seated on Cid’s lap.
A low mutter of curses escaped Cid’s mouth before he could stop them and his fingers tightened on Vincent’s hip. He panted, his mind ablaze with the consuming feeling of Vincent’s inner walls clenching around him. It felt right, entirely like he had finally found that missing piece of himself. Vincent moaned, low and throaty as Cid settled deep inside of him.
“Gods, Cid. Move,” he commanded after a moment, an attractive pink flush spreading across his ivory skin, accompanied by a light sheen of sweat.
The blond was more than willing to obey. Flexing upwards with his hips, the position enabling him to little more than small rolling movements, Cid thrust inside of Vincent. The winged man shivered, matching him thrust for thrust.
“So beautiful,” Cid couldn’t help but comment, dipping his head slightly to brush his lips over the spot on Vincent’s back where darkening skin gradually gave way to wing. The response was electrifying.
Vincent’s fingers flexed against the flesh of his leg, digging in as his entire body shuddered with arousal. A wordless cry of pleasure emanated from his mouth. Cid smirked.
“Hmm, feel good, did it?” he questioned, following up the words by running his tongue lightly over the edge of one velvety wing. It shivered in response and he was surprised by how smooth the flesh of the appendage was. Not leathery like they appeared and he expected, but coated in a very light brushing of fine hairs that felt silky to the touch.
Not ceasing his steady rhythm and receiving only incoherent replies from his lover, Cid decided to attempt a little experiment. He slid his hand from Vincent’s hip to gently trace the outline of one wing. His lips followed the line, the scent of his lover rising up around him in steadying waves. It was intoxicating.
When Vincent groaned, thrusting his hips sharply against Cid’s, it was all the proof the pilot needed. He felt a groan of need escaping his own mouth from hearing all the sounds from his lover. And Vincent was indeed beautiful. Muscles shifting strongly beneath delicate, ivory skin. He moved sinuously, always as if he were dancing or something equally graceful.
Vincent’s head fell back onto his shoulder as Cid’s fingers ghosted over nipples before gliding downwards to wrap around Vincent’s straining erection. His hands encountered Vincent’s other hand and he entwined his fingers with his lover’s own. His fingers continuously smoothed over the delicate flesh of Vincent’s wing as he stroked his lover, determined to prove that he still loved Vincent despite the changes.
“I love you,” he murmured in his gasping lover’s ear before curling a tongue around the shell, eliciting another sharp cry of arousal.
“Always,” Vincent responded, turning his head to quickly capture Cid’s lips before pulling back. Crimson eyes burned with passion and adoration, a sheer joy in having returned to his lover. “I never stopped.” He shifted his hips backwards, forcing Cid to go deeper.
The blond groaned, releasing Vincent’s wing before he crushed it and sliding his arm around Vincent’s waist, pulling him closer. “Mushy stuff,” he muttered good-humoredly, burying his face in the back of Vincent’s neck and brushing his lips across the flesh there. He could feel the subtle tightening and flexing of Vincent around him that indicated his lover was close and increased the rate of his stroking.
“Get over it,” Vincent gasped in response, a burning hot fire racing through his veins and curling in his belly. He could feel the heat of Cid’s body against his, the continued assault of Cid on his prostrate and the loving touches across a body he thought he would forever hate. His heart literally swelled inside of him.
His entire body stiffened as he came, spilling his seed over he and Cid’s combined touch. The warm liquid splashed out onto the comforter but neither seemed to care as pleasure wracked his entire body. Vincent moaned something wordless, it might have been Cid’s name, as he pressed his hips backwards, taking his lover as deep as he could do.
One, two… perhaps three thrusts later, pulled in by the tightly clenching muscles and his lover’s abandoned cry of release, Cid groaned and released. He spilled himself deep inside of Vincent, a primal part of him feeling as if he were making a claim, reminding the winged man that they were meant to be together. His arm tightened around Vincent’s waist, holding him close and crushing the man’s wings against his chest as he rode out the last of the spasms.
Vincent turned his head, capturing up Cid’s lips in an almost desperate and hungry kiss, sliding their tongues together. He relaxed against his lover’s hold, molding himself to Cid’s body as they came down. Teeth gently nipped on the flesh of his lip before the kiss gradually became gentler, slower.
He carefully retracted his hold on Cid’s thigh, his muscles relaxing as the rest of his body cooled, his heartbeat returning to a normal rhythm. Cid’s mouth left his, pressing to the back of his shoulder. It was quiet, calm between them for the moment and Cid gradually relaxed his touch, enabling Vincent to grab their combined hands and bring them up to his mouth.
His tongue flicked across their soiled fingers, cleaning up the spatters of cooling semen that had flecked there. Most had landed on the bed. Cid groaned at the erotic display, unable to help a little payback as he uncoiled his free hand from Vincent’s belly and reached to slide it along the edge of Vincent’s wing.
Vincent shivered before lapping up the last of the droplets and turning to shoot his lover an amused look. “Pervert,” he teased affectionately.
Cid grinned. “Of course, I am. But I’m allowed to be. You’re mine,” he retorted, flexing his fingers in Vincent’s grip.
His lover rolled his eyes. “Glad to see that possessive streak hasn’t faded,” Vincent responded before moving to slide gently away from Cid. He let his lover slip out of his body as he stretched, muscle shifting beneath his skin. “We made a mess of the bed.”
A laugh echoed around Cid’s bedroom. “After eleven years, do you think that bothers me?” he asked rhetorically, unable to resist groping Vincent’s ass as he shifted position, stretching his legs out across the bed. He winced as his muscles protested the action.
“Sixteen,” Vincent corrected quietly as he shoved the soiled comforter down to the floor. One of them would clean it later, he was sure. “For me it was sixteen.” He turned to regard his lover, their eyes meeting.
Cid’s heart thrummed a heavy beat inside of his chest. “And yet, ya never forgot me,” he responded.
“I made a promise, remember?” Vincent moved to sit on the bed, his wings settling into a comfortable position behind him. He grabbed his hair with one claw, idly twisting it into something that would stay out of his eyes. “You kept yours.”
Cid grunted. “Yeah, and it’s killing me.” He gestured towards the nightstand and the small cup of wooden toothpicks resting on it. “Those things just ain’t cuttin’ it.”
“Your lungs are thanking me,” Vincent retorted, his hands falling back down to his sides as he swept his gaze over the room, taking in details he hadn’t bothered to register earlier.
Truly, nothing had changed in all the years he had gone. Cid was still messy and gummi ship parts littered much of the available space. Though this home wasn’t the one Vincent remembered, their shared home had been destroyed when the Heartless attacked apparently, it still carried that familiar Cid aura. Carefully controlled disaster.
Beside Vincent, Cid rolled his eyes, sensing that his lover had gone into his mind again, as he was wont to do before disappearing. At least in that, nothing had changed. He reached forward and wrapped his fingers around Vincent’s arm, dragging his lover into his hold before Vincent could even work up a protest.
“You took too long,” he muttered, relishing the feel of Vincent’s warm skin against his. He might not have remembered Vincent during the absence, but the unmistakable sensation that he was missing something was always present. His bed always felt too cold, no matter how many blankets he used or how the heat was turned on. And he never felt whole.
He might have forgotten Vincent’s face and his voice, might have forgotten the boy he had grown up next to, but he hadn’t forgotten how he felt. A certain part of him still knew that he already loved someone. It was why he had shied away from all relationships, why he had given up smoking despite not remembering who he had made what promise to.
In his hold, Vincent sighed. “You didn’t even remember.”
“That’s not the point,” Cid countered. “I didn’t have to remember everything because all I needed to know was that I missin’ somethin’, waiting on somethin’ to happen. I didn’t have to remember your name to know that I didn’t want anyone else.”
Vincent shifted, unhappy memories cropping up in his mind. He didn’t want to, but he did. It built up within him before he could stop it, the memories that he wished he could forget, that some shadow beast would come along and consume them. Gaia’s Grotto had been his own personal hell and only his desire to keep his promise and return to Cid had saved him.
“You kept me sane,” he admitted quietly, unconsciously furling closer to his lover. He didn’t know if the nightmares would ever fade. “In that hell, without anything to hold on to, I would have become just like the others… a mindless slave to some system.”
Cid’s arms tightened around him. “That damn Hojo,” he hissed angrily, blue eyes narrowing. “It’s his fuckin’ fault. I’ll wring his scrawny neck when I see him next. You shouldn’t have gone through that.” He paused, reconsidering his actions as Vincent listened quietly, warm puffs of air ghosting across Cid’s bare chest. “Hell, that damn brat shouldn’t have either.”
It went without saying whom Cid was referring to.
Vincent smirked at the thought of Axel and Cid actually becoming friends. The blond was a softie, after all; he just didn’t want to admit it. He and Axel were both stubborn like that, probably why Vincent had been attracted to the younger boy in the first place. He and Cid had a lot in common, though he didn’t think it would go over too well if he told either to their face.
“You only pretended to dislike Axel, didn’t you?” he questioned.
The blond snorted. “Kid’s too cocky. Needs to be taken down a notch.” His fingers twitched against Vincent’s back, suddenly feeling a need for a cigarette though he hadn’t picked up one up in several years. He would keep his promise.
“Maybe you’re right.” Vincent nipped Cid gently on the shoulder before sitting up, Cid reluctantly allowing him to slide from his arms. “How about a shower?”
Cid could only grin in response, naughty thoughts running through his mind. He grabbed his lover and quickly pressed their lips together, slipping his tongue inside of Vincent’s mouth in a kiss that would make the winged man melt. Predictably, Vincent molded against him, no less aggressive as he pressed forward to deepen the kiss.
“We aren’t going to make it to the shower if you keep doing that,” Vincent murmured against Cid’s lips, unable to resist the urge to lightly trace his fingers over Cid’s abdomen. The muscles quivered under his touch quite invitingly. “Then again, I haven’t had my turn yet.”
Cid groaned, fingers flexing against Vincent’s hip. “Did I happen to mention how glad I am that you’re back?” he asked, his eyes beginning to darken with emotion.
“Not recently,” Vincent whispered, dipping his head to trace his tongue over the shell of Cid’s ear. His fangs nipped against the cartilage and Cid shivered. “I wouldn’t mind hearing it again considering that I feel the same.”
Cid hummed approvingly, a deep-throated purr that rumbled in his chest. “Love ya, Vin,” he replied, already moving to pull his lover closer.
“Love you,” Vincent returned, nibbling one last time on the curve of Cid’s jaw before pulling away from Cid’s reaching hold. “Shower first. The rest later.”
Cid’s legs reluctantly slid to the edge of the bed. “Tease,” he accused good-naturedly, his eyes sparkling with happiness. It was the same look that Vincent remembered, one that he had kept close to his heart in Gaia’s Grotto, and his heart flipped at the sight.
It was so damn good to be home.
~ Part Two ~
With Vincent and Axel occupying the only guest room in Leon’s house, though both boys doubted Vincent was actually staying with Axel anymore, Riku and Sora had been remanded to either staying with Cid or taking up one of the rooms in the local hotel. They had opted for the latter, both for privacy and because Riku and Cid tended to clash like oil and water over the smallest of things. Sora liked to think it was because they were so much alike, in some weird and vague way. Riku always bristled when Sora told him so.
There wasn’t anything particularly wrong with the hotel room. In fact, Sora found he quite liked the quaint decor. It sort of reminded him of home. But even better was the small balcony that faced the setting sun. The sky was a rosy splash of orange hues and to no surprise, it was there that Sora found Riku.
The silver-haired boy was standing at the railing, staring out at the far horizon with his fingers gripped so tightly that Sora suspected he would later find marks in the metal. His shoulders were set with a firm line of tension and all of Sora’s senses went instinctual. He knew with just one look that Riku was in brood mode at present.
Steeling himself for what was certain to be a tense atmosphere and likely argument, Sora took a deep breath before stepping out onto the balcony. The silence of a sleeping town greeted him, along with a brief wisp of cool wind. Riku, however, did not. Sora wasn’t the least bit surprised.
He moved to stand beside his boyfriend, laying both hands on the railing. His left was inches away from Riku’s right. There was still no response. Which meant Riku was really upset about something, not that Sora didn’t already know what. His handsome features had tightened further.
Sora sighed. “Are you going to sulk for the rest of your life?” he asked.
Riku’s jaw worked soundlessly before he gritted out, “I’m not sulking.”
“Okay. Then you’re pouting,” The brunet amended, shifting his hand to lay it over Riku’s. Yet, the other boy slid free of his touch and turned away from the railing, most likely intending to head inside.
“You’re acting childish,” Sora called after him, wondering why he always seemed to be the more mature of the two of them.
Riku halted, one hand on the sliding door. “I’m being childish?” he repeated lowly, sounding slightly strangled. He shot Sora a look over his shoulder, aquamarine eyes filled with emotion. “You’re the one who is willing to jump headfirst into anything,” he finished.
The brunet chewed on his lip. “You don’t–”
“No!” the other boy interrupted, slicing a hand through the air as he whirled on his heels. “You’re the one who doesn’t understand!”
Ocean blue eyes widened at him in confusion, a silent gesture for Riku to explain. Riku let out a growl of frustration, resisting the urge to tear out his hair from sheer aggravation alone. It seemed he could never find the right words to say. It always came out wrong, crueler than he had intended.
“It makes me sick,” he finally admitted, staring down at the ground as he swallowed thickly. “The thought of deliberately cutting you with my keyblade makes me sick, no matter what it is for.” He paused, taking a deep and shuddering breath. “I’ve tried to hurt you before and I won’t do it again.”
Understanding flooded Sora as he stepped forward. “It’s not the same, Riku.”
“It feels the same to me!” Riku argued, still refusing to look up. “You don’t know how stupid I was, and how easy it was for the darkness to within me. I have control now, somehow balancing them both, but I won’t go back to when it was just darkness.” He paused, hands tightening into fists at his side. “I won’t.”
“I’m not asking you to,” Sora insisted, trying to keep his tone soft and even. He didn’t want it to seem like he was attempting to force Riku. Not to mention he understood. There were even moments in Sora’s life when he had thought to turn to the darkness. There were seconds when he thought he would give up anything if it would get his friends back.
Riku’s head snapped up, a growl echoing in his throat. “Why do you want to help him so damn much anyways?” he demanded, aquamarine eyes flashing. “He was trying to turn you into a Heartless! He wanted you to die!”
“Not in the end.” Sora paused, reconsidering his words as he tried to find something that would make Riku understand the strange and conflicting emotions that were circulating through him. “Besides, I see him and I remember something he once said to me.”
“Oh yeah, what?” Riku asked, an unattractive sneer taking over his features.
Yet, Sora was not perturbed by the look. He understood Riku’s pain just as easily as he understood Axel’s desperate desire to reunite with Roxas.
“That we are not quite so different. When he first said it back in Castle Oblivion, I didn’t know what it meant and then my memories of the castle were broken apart so it was nearly forgotten. But now, I know.”
Riku snorted. “You two aren’t alike at all.”
“We are,” Sora assured him, taking a step closer and closing the distance that was all too great between them. A whisper of wind blew across them, bringing with it the pleasant scent of someone baking in their home. “Because while he was desperately searching for the person that meant the most to him, I was, too. I would have done anything to get them back. I can understand why he’s being selfish.”
What was it about Riku that made Sora turn into such a sap? The romantic words flowed from him so easily, mostly because they rang so true inside of him. And knowing Riku’s fears, about being abandoned and being left alone, it was even easier to tell him how much he loved him. It was as if they were right, just meant to be. Sora never put much stock into myths like that until he had fallen in love with Riku. It was something inexplicable.
Riku blew out an angry burst of air and looked away, however, the expression in his eyes haunted. He wasn’t quite convinced by Sora’s words, not to mention the reminder of his own part in the Ansem mess. He didn’t want to think about how he had been a bastard or how he had actually raised his sword against Sora. He didn’t want to think about all the bad decisions he had made.
Shaking his head, Sora sighed and closed the distance between them. He wrapped his arms around his best friend and lover both, laying his head against Riku’s chest. He could feel the older boy trembling in his arms, the only betrayal of his true feelings.
“You trust me, right?” he asked.
Riku exhaled noisily. “You know that I do,” he muttered.
“Good.” Sora smiled, the low pulse of Riku’s heart a welcome sound to his ears. “Because I trust you, too. With my life even. I know that this will work because you won’t let it hurt me.”
Silence descended for a moment as Riku stiffened in his grasp, mulling the words over in his mind. Beneath them on the balcony, someone shouted to someone else in the street. People moved by, heading home for the evening. The sky began to smell faintly of rain as the sun finally dipped beneath the horizon, casting Radiant Garden into a cerulean twilight.
Finally, arms slid around Sora, returning the affectionate embrace. “I don’t deserve you,” Riku murmured, his body relaxing slightly as he hugged Sora’s warmth to his own.
“Funny, I was kind of thinking the same thing,” the brunette countered cheekily, glad that the tense atmosphere was gradually beginning to disperse. He hated it when they argued with each other.
Riku rolled his eyes. “You’re an idiot,” he retorted, laying his chin on top of Sora’s head. “And a sap,” he added, almost on an afterthought.
“Mmm.” Sora tilted up his head, dislodging the chin and brushing his lips across the bare skin of Riku’s neck. “But you love me anyways,” he stated in a matter-of-fact tone before running his tongue over Riku’s adam’s apple. The faint flavor of sweat mixed with that natural Riku taste washed over his tongue.
The silver-haired boy shivered, tilting his head slightly to allow his perpetually horny boyfriend more access. And everyone thought he was the perverted one. They had no idea how voracious Sora was behind doors. Not that Riku minded his little secret. He had the feeling that if they knew, they’d try to steal him away and he was not going to let that happen. His arms tightened around Sora, one hand sliding down to rub across Sora’s back.
“You really want me to do it?” he asked.
Sora snickered even as he arched into the touch, his motions cat-like and lazy. “Of course I want you to do it,” he teased, nibbling lightly on the sun-kissed skin, not darkened like Sora’s but tasty just the same. “But if you’re talking about what Axel wants, that’s your choice.”
“You’re such a pervert.” Riku sighed, trying not to be distracted by the warm tongue currently causing tingles to spread down his spine. Blood began to rush southwards, making it increasingly difficult to think. “Can you really feel him? Roxas, I mean.”
Sora nodded, one hand slipping under Riku’s white shirt and gliding along the warm skin of Riku’s back. “It’s not like speaking with a voice in my head or anything like that,” he explained as his fingers traced scars that he knew hadn’t been there before the whole keyblade business began. He struggled to find the right words. “I just know he’s there. It’s a lot of more obvious now… ever since I saw Axel. And it’s just not fair.”
The other boy tilted his head to the side in slight confusion, half of him wanting Sora to explain while the other wanted Sora to continue his distracting movements and take it further. “Not fair?” he repeated, a growl of desire reverberating in his chest as Sora pressed closer to him.
Ocean blue eyes looked up at him in that moment, significantly closer than they had been before since Sora had managed one growth spurt. Sora hoped it wasn’t the last. “Roxas had no choice in being born a Nobody. But he was given his own thoughts anyway. And he tried to live with what he had but was then forced to give up his life. I can tell… he really cares for Axel.”
Riku looked skeptical. “I thought Nobodies didn’t have hearts.” Fingers danced along his spine, causing his skin to goose pimple and he unknowingly shivered once more, his eyes momentarily flickering past Sora to gauge the distance to the bed… or at least, somewhere indoors and more private.
Five steps… maybe less.
Sora rolled his eyes. “You can’t really believe that,” he retorted, no sign that he was currently trying to molest his boyfriend in his innocent expression. The boy was a devious mastermind, Riku was certain of it.
The silver-haired boy hummed thoughtfully. “Maybe. Maybe not.” He paused, attempting to consider Sora’s words before regarding him calculatingly. He wanted to clear everything up before stumbling towards that bed. “You really think it will work?”
“Just about certain,” Sora replied with no hesitation. His eyes gleamed in the dim light of the hotel, that familiar grin on his face. He lifted his head then, curling his tongue against the shell of Riku’s ear.
Riku closed his eyes, surrendering to his boyfriend’s touch. “Fine,” he acquiesced. “I’ll do it. Not for Axel,” he inserted hastily. “But for you.” There was no way in hell he was going to help that arrogant bastard.
Sora beamed up at him. “I knew you’d come through, Ri~ku,” he teased before rising up to look lips with his lover.
Riku accepted the kiss greedily, his hands sliding down to cup Sora’s shapely buttocks with one hand. His slid his tongue inside Sora’s mouth, soaking up the flavor of some sweet candy that Sora had been sucking on earlier. A low moan of encouragement rattled in Sora’s throat setting Riku’s veins afire.
His worries for what he was going to do faded in the face of Sora’s confidence. Some god out there had a favorite in Sora. If the brunet truly believed they were going to succeed, then Riku could only believe as well.