Kingdom Hearts Fan Fiction ❯ Crescent Moon ❯ Crescent Moon ( Chapter 1 )

Crescent Moon

Morgana Maeve

8/7/08 - Axel/Saïx. I totally blame that song from `Ferngully' for what happens next. Yeah, you know the one. `Toxic Love,' anybody? Especially the extended version. It put me in the porn mood.

Warnings: Shameless PWP. (Edited for FF.net. Link on the profile.) Sordid. Horrible. Disgusting. Gross. Definitely NC-17. Wes Craven would be proud. (No, he wouldn't.)

Disclaimer: I own nada but the words! Square and Disney own all! (And what they would do if they knew…)

(( ))

Saïx watches the crescent moon peek above the horizon, a shy maiden wrapped in silver gauze, unknowing of her powerful seduction. He feels his body stir, and with effort, he tries to overcome it, pressing down on taut knees with sharp fingers. `Please,' he begs, `not tonight.' It is only a crescent moon, not nearly enough to fully arouse the animal within him.

But the goddess of night is against him, and she sends out her younger daughter as well to watch over her sister. Together, they taunt him, pointed tips nearly touching, playing tag with one another, and he whimpers, feeling the heat spread out from his face to his loins.

“Damn Xemnas!” he spits, tugging at his long, blue hair, tinted a paler shade in this bright moonlight.

“Damning Xemnas isn't going to do much,” comes a cocky voice behind him, and Saïx starts in surprising surprise, trying very quickly to regain control. “He wouldn't care where he is as long as he has his Kingdom Hearts, and besides, it's not like there's a hell much worse than the one we're already in.”

Saïx is inclined to agree with Axel, but he is quick to slip into his subservient role of defending his Superior. “You should not talk about him that way. It is disrespectful.”

“So is damning him.”

There is nothing Saïx can say in response to this, so he turns his attention back to the moons, watching their progress through the night sky. His eyes flicker, haze of golden color falling over everything, and he blinks hard and keeps them shut, counting to ten.

“Funny moons,” Axel says offhandedly. “I've never seen anything like it.”

Saïx garbles his first attempt at speech, thick growl lodged in his throat, and he chokes his way past it.

“Yes,” he answers, somewhat strangled, forgetting what the redhead had just said. Axel looks at him strangely.

“Yes, you've seen moons like these?” he teases, and Saïx struggled mightily to withhold the screaming beast inside him.

“Don't taunt me,” he struggles out, and Axel puts his palms up, laughing behind them.

“Okay, okay. I get it. Don't mess with the Luna Diviner. Got it. Memorized.”

Saïx seriously wishes it were anyone other than Axel who had accompanied him on this mission. In fact, Saïx wishes he were still at The World That Never Was, safe in his room, able to take care of whatever…needs…his inner wildness demandes. Someone else could have gone with Axel.

But this is the life of a Nobody under Xemnas' charge, and there is no such thing as contradicting orders.

A presence behind his back, and Saïx nearly comes out of his skin as an arm encircles his waist. “It's kind of romantic, isn't it?” Axel breathes, moist heat ghosting over Saïx's ear, and Saïx gasps when probing fingers press lightly on a hipbone.

“What are you doing?” he asks in broken words, shocked and appalled, and yet, oddly enough, sensitive to every move Axel makes. So it is devastating when Axel explodes into a heap of smothered laughter, hands holding his stomach.

“Oh man, I can't believe you fell for that,” he snorts out, mirth evident in every line of his face, and Saïx pushes himself away, humiliated and angry and…let down?

`It's the moons,' he tells himself. `Nothing but the moons.' And perhaps he is right.

“Oh, come on! Don't sulk!” Axel is back, all friendly and funny, a joke to be laughed at, never serious about his actions. Saïx glares at him, but Axel doesn't seem to mind. He knows not what he is tempting.

“You are not funny.” Axel snickers.

“I'm hilarious,” he amends, settling into a more comfortable position, long legs sprawled over the cliff side. He gives Saïx a sidelong look. “But it is a sort of a sexy night.”

Saïx chokes on nothing and scrambles to his feet. “You are deliberately-” He can't finish his sentence for Axel has stood up, slim frame glowing in the gray light. His eyes are dark and smoky.

“I'm deliberately what, Saïx,” he asks softly, stepping closer. Saïx moves back, but the wolf inside him yearns forward, scratching at his ribcage, howling to be set free. “Deliberately enticing you?” Saïx shudders. “Is that what you think of me?”

There are many answers to this question, and none of them are nice, so Saïx turns on his heels and stalks away while the forbidden drags his heels, begging him to stay.

The moons have risen higher, curved swords slashing through black velvet, unperturbed by the stars they are outshining. And as the moons wax toward their climax at the peak of the sky, Saïx climbs his own staircase towards blissful fall, yearning growing with every step he takes.

Whether aware of it or not, Axel has awoken something better left to sleep, and now Saïx has to deal with its effect, stiff against his leg, pinned down mercilessly by thick leather. At any other time, he wouldn't have been so susceptible to what he believes is the Nobody's attempt at being very annoying, but at night, with the moons ascending, anything is possible.

Even the very air is seductive, hints of daytime sultry heat still coloring the breeze with its exotic scent, smell of water like a heavy bosom. Saïx closes his eyes and lets the night enter his body, curling around the foul beast, soothing it with promises of blood on sand and juices on bodies.

Axel is lucky it is a mere crescent moon. Murderous impulses are not aroused tonight. Only desire is.

It disturbs Saïx a bit to realize that he is reacting to Axel's thoughtless comments, having a bodily response to something that is obviously meant as a joke. But maybe it is not a joke. Axel is one of the more passionate members of the Organization; it would not be surprising to find out he too has his own uncontrollable urges.

Xemnas is not entirely against members having purely physicall relationships with each other, but he is not entirely for it, either. It is a sticky situation these two find themselves in, but really, is there even a solution? There is nothing to stop them, and there is nothing to gain. Nothing to lose, nothing to be found.

And perhaps Axel senses the beast lying faintly dormant in Saïx's limbs. Perhaps that is the why in this convoluted equation; he is seeking out a kinship that barely exists.

`Or perhaps,' he thinks sourly, `I am over-thinking what is obviously a sick joke.' And with that, he gives his leg an absentminded stroke, palm brushing over pulsing rigidness, nerves tingling with spasmodic twitches.

“It feels better with a partner.” It's the second time that night that Saïx has almost come out of skin, and he jumps up, nearly slipping off the cliff. Axel is standing under a tree, body melded in shadows, leaning against the trunk, watching Saïx with knowing eyes. “You feel more if someone else does it for you.”

Saïx is tempted to ask Axel just how he knows this, but instead, goes for a more characteristic response. “I don't know what you're talking about,” he says stoically. Axel flashes something that is both a smirk and not.

“Your pants do.”

Crude, but effective. Nothing ever escapes Axel's attention. Not even Saïx.

He swaggers down toward the taller and wider Nobody, still wearing that peculiar smirk, and then he stops, inches away from the rapidly dissolving Saïx, pointing imperiously to the almost invisible bump at Saïx's leg.

“You are being lewd and obnoxious,” the blue haired Nobody informs him.

“And you're being a prude,” Axel says, and then they are kissing.

Axel's mouth his hard and demanding, and Saïx flounders under the pressure. The hand at the back of his head forces him deeper into the kiss, pinning him down, unable to move. The other hand is fighting zippers, forcing fingers past layers of clothes to cold skin.

Somehow, Saïx finds the strength to resist, to move his legs and feet, struggling for the dominance he should have but does not want. And somehow, they manage to turn themselves around. Cold moonlight splashes against Saïx's eyes, and by their own volition, they snap open.

The moons are sucked ftom the sky, drawn into his empty veins, and his scar explodes in ragged gashes, inhibition and thought fleeing from the monster within.

They pull away with raspy breaths, chests heaving, drinking in the air of the night, and Axel wipes his mouth Saïx has bitten him. Saïx growls and prowls around Axel's lithe body, but the Nobody doesn't care.

“Finally woke you up,” he states calmly. Saïx answers with a snarl and pounces, knocking Axel over into the rocky ground. “This is what I wanted, you know,” he tells the berserker. “You've played right into my trap.” Saïx bites him through layers of leather and still manages to rip skin, dust leaking out and settling on pale flesh. Axel grins madly. “Let's fuck.”

And they do.

Sharp bits of rock and pebble bite into Axel's hands and knees as Saïx pounds from behind, coats still on, pants a crumpled heap off to the side. The night is not quiet, crickets chirping and birds hooting, skin slapping against skin, grunts of pain and pleasure wobbling to the edge and falling off.

The pain is acute and sharp, coloring Axel's vision bright red, but this is what he wants, what he needs, what he can't get from Demyx. And for Saïx, he knows not what he does, for the monster is out and claiming its prey.

Claws rake down Axel's thin chest, digging all the way to bone, skin slicing open, nails catching on ribs, leaving nicks on the surface. Dust pours out in waves of dry, leaving glistening bones open to the night, a sacrifice of brutal animalism. Mouth on his shoulders, sharp fangs tearing through muscle, shredding flesh in long peels backwards, spine gleaming under Saïx's body.

And still, Saïx continues to pound, thrusting in and out, trying to find that position of maximum pleasure. He has forgotten Nobodies feel nothing.

Oh, but Axel does, cut hands curling around jagged stones, eyes tight shut, gasping as Saïx buries himself deeper and deeper into his rebelling body. But he knows not to fight it for there is nothing like the struggle of prey to the predator. And somewhere, in a dark, depraved part of his mind, he is enjoying this. It is punishment for all his sins, a cleansing of his body, a purification of the most perverse kind.

In an almost loving embrace, Saïx molds his stomach to Axel's dusty back, arms wrapping around Axel's waist, striping skin as he goes, claws finally hooking around the thick hardness he hunts. It hurts much more than it should, painful tugs on sensitive pulse, but beneath that, there is the mute pleasure, and they both focus on that.

The pleasure builds, drowning out all the pain and hurt and tears that Axel tells himself are not running down his face, and then it explodes in mind-blowing eruptions, sticky white spewing everywhere, splashing on rocks and hands and bone, and then it is done, aftershocks leaving two bodies quaking. Saïx gives a long howl, claws clenched on Axel's wait, and Axel moans low and soft, phantasmal orgasm nearly killing him.

The sun awakens to a scene of carnage, bloody red in its orange sky, bleeding for the broken Nobody lying on the rocks. Saïx wakes with a blinding headache and the strange sensation of not remembering anything that had happened last night. His pants are also gone, and he immediately suspects Axel of some trickery.

“Really, Axel, is that necessary?” he asks in annoyance, turning to his left. There Axel lies, half faded away, dust trailing funeral pyres high into the sanguine sky. His coat is torn to shreds, but so is his body, bones nicked and broken, skin flayed and flogged.

Time stops as yellow eyes widen, mouth open in horrified shock, and then he is running away, feet slapping on cold stone, running far far away until he finally trips over something and spills onto the ground. Sweating imaginary sweat, he crawls over to the thing and is relieved, so relieved when he finds the thing is a box. He mangles it with his claymore trying to force it open, nearly ripping the fragile thing it apart at the hinges, and finally, something wet drips out, sparkly and lively. It is a potion.

Saïx runs back with the precious drink cupped in his hands, hair streaming wildly behind him. And when he finds Axel, even more faded, he throws the liquid at him in pure panic, coating the battered body in iridescent green and blue. Before his eyes, Axel's skin begins to sew itself together, bones disappearing under new layers of muscles, and Axel groans.

“What happened?” Saïx asks him, holding his head up. “Who did this to you?” Axel laughs hoarsely.

“The wolf.”

(( ))

I am so demented. This is just…if you've made it this far, I give you kudos. I have finally succeeded in disgusted myself. (Lies.) Oh gawd, I need to lie down.

BLAME HEXXUS FROM FERNGULLY, NOT ME!

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