Kingdom Hearts Fan Fiction ❯ Water ❯ Water ( One-Shot )

Water

 

Morgana Maeve

 

Yeah, I know I said I'd update `Sick Day,' but that was before I realized Monday is 8/13 day. So, happy Axel/Roxas day! Here's porn to make your day better.

 

Warning - Porn without plot. Yaoi. Axel/Roxas. Explicit. No admittance under seventeen. (Like that'll stop you.)

 

Disclaimer - I take no responsibility for the corruption of minors. You wanted to read it, deal with the mental consequences. The Kingdom Hearts series belongs to Disney and Square. I make no profit from this.

 

oOo

 

It is like rain, but softer and warmer, and it loosens the tightened muscles in Axel's shoulders. He stands, head bowed, under the showerhead, letting the hot water plaster his brilliant red hair to his neck and back, allowing the red liner around his eyes to melt away. For now, he is simply Axel; for the moment he is not Axel, the hottest young model for Gothic Beauty.

 

The hotel room is beautiful as it is expensive, with its fancy champagne floating in crushed ice and lush carpeted floors, but Axel can find no solace in it except when he's standing in the black porcelain bath, the filmy shower curtain pulled full around the tub's circumference, evanescent steam clouding the mirrors and causing water to drip down the upscale Macedonian tiles.

 

It is not because he is a model that he lives in discontentment; he chose this road for himself and enjoys the fact that people worship him for his body. It is because the one person for whom he would do anything, for whom he would spend the entire night pleasuring, is too proud to ask. And that's what Axel wants. He wants to be asked. He needs to be begged, whether with words or action. And because he's not, because Roxas is stubborn and unmoving and won't admit to wanting a model, Axel cannot revel in the fruits of selling his looks.

 

So he stands, head hung, arms trailing, letting the hot water slide over his well-molded body, allowing it to wash away the stains of frustration.

 

Just outside the hotel door, keycard in hand, is Roxas, fresh from the lobby full of cooing girls, camera in the other hand. It is not the big camera he uses during photo shoots; that one is packed away along with the bright lights and backdrops in his van. It is just a little camera he uses to get candid shots of Axel to sell to celebrity magazines like Star and People.

 

There is a picture on it he likes, and wants to show it to Axel and see if they can use it in Gothic Beauty. He would have already downloaded the picture onto his computer, maybe even run it through Photoshop, but his computer is in the hotel room, and that is what he has come to get.

 

The door opens soundlessly, and Roxas enters, calling for Axel. The answer is muffled under the sounds of pouring water, and Roxas looks to the slightly ajar door leading to the bathroom. Without thinking, he turns the camera on. Perhaps he can get a shot of Axel in nothing but a towel, or even better, nothing at all and Photoshop extra steam where it's needed and sell the picture to a cheap tabloid for quick cash.

 

He elbows the door open all the way, camera lifted to his eyes, but then he stops, freezes, the camera falling back to chest level, fingers white against the black plastic.

 

The cool breeze from the door, mixed with the humid air of the bathroom, has caused the flimsy shower curtain to rise away from the tub. It is only for a few seconds, but there Axel stands, tall and desolate, eyes closed, hair dripping water down his chest, stomach, legs, steam curling around his body, all framed by a white, billowing curtain.

 

Roxas, with his photographer's eye, knows this is beauty.

 

And then the want rushes up from his loins, pooling in his stomach, twisting and turning, hot and wickedly wonderful, making the steamy room pale in comparison. In little kicks and twist, it works its way up his chest, setting blood to boil, stopping mental thought and making Roxas close his eyes and gasp softly.

 

That gasp, so quietly uttered, echoes like a yell in the tiled room. Axel has time only to look up suddenly and catch a glimpse of wide-eyed Roxas before the curtain falls back into place. And Roxas continues to stare at the blurry silhouette, unconsciously stepping forward.

 

And then the curtain is seized and pulled roughly back, metal rungs popping off the bar, voicing their deaths in little clangs as they fall to the floor, and Axel nearly falls out of the tub, trying to support his weight with the flowing shower curtain. Roxas puts his camera down hastily on the sink, accidentally setting the counter to take a picture every five minutes as his thumb brushes across it.

 

Axel, by this time, has caught himself on the tub's lip, heart racing as he feels his legs almost slip out from underneath him. Roxas rushes forward, “Are you okay?” on his lips, but the words are stillborn and die in his mouth, becoming nothing more than a slight exhalation as Axel straightens.

 

Axel's member lies placid and flaccid against his thighs, but as Roxas stares and wonders and wants, it grows harder and twitches, and Axel laughs at dry-mouthed Roxas's own tightness in his jeans.

 

Roxas looks up into Axel's face. They are close, very close; if Roxas wants to, he can reach out and touch him, feel slick skin underneath his fingertips. And this makes Roxas jerk away, stubborn pride overpowering lusty want.

 

But Axel is quicker, can seize Roxas's shirt faster than the blonde can move away, and he pulls Roxas up, catching his face between his hands. They are hot from the water, and Roxas's breath catches slightly, a soft hiccup in the wet air.

 

And Axel leans closer, head tilted and mouth open, beads of water caught on his lips, and Roxas shudders pleasurably once and closes his eyes, his mouth open too in anticipation.

 

There is a flash of light, a click, but Roxas is so intent on Axel's lips, so absorbed in the feeling of them coming closer that he doesn't even recognize the sound of his own camera.

 

Axel's lips come closer still, and Roxas can feel the heat radiating off of them, can almost feel them moving over his own, wants to feel them pressed hard against his own, but Axel stops, lips horribly close, nearly touching, and Roxas makes a sort of choked grunting noise and strains to move closer. Axel's hands hold him back.

 

“Say it,” Axel orders, and his lips brush lightly against Roxas's. It is sweet, delicious torture. Roxas moans softly. “Say it!” he orders again, his voice a harsh whisper, and Roxas can taste his breath.

 

He whispers something, and Axel cannot hear it, though he knows what was said. But knowing is not enough; he must hear it, listen to it, savor it.

 

“Louder,” Axel says, and Roxas moans again.

 

“Please,” Roxas whimpers. “Please.”

 

It is enough. Lips come crashing down, and Roxas presses eagerly against them, relishing in their feel, their taste, the way they move against his and send little thrills of shivers throughout his body. Axel's tongue darts out, traces the outline of Roxas's mouth, and pays special attention to his lower lip, running over it as Roxas groans from the back of his throat and behind closed lips.

 

But then they open, and Axel's tongue slips inside, poking and probing and running over teeth, tangling playfully with Roxas's own tongue, slippery and wet and hot.

 

There is another flash, another click, but neither pay attention to it as Axel pulls Roxas into the bathtub, bodies molded together, Roxas's shirt and jeans becoming wet and heavy, clinging to him. His sandal catches on the rim of the tub; Roxas kicks it off savagely and it lands with a soggy thump. The other soon follows.

 

Axel slips his hands under Roxas's shirt, traveling up the flat stomach, muscles contracting under his touch, over his chest, seeking out pink little nubs to pinch and squeeze and tweak, and Roxas moans and presses his hips against Axel's thigh. It sends shocks of pleasure up his length and stomach and disperses through the rest of his body.

 

The shirt is gone then, and as Axel rips it off, water droplets are sprayed everywhere, a glittering mass of minute rainbows reflecting in the light. Roxas fumbles with his jeans, heavy with water, and when they finally peel away, Axel pulls his boxers away, and then their bodies come together, pressing against each other, erections rubbing and causing sweet friction, both of them panting and gasping, grabbing at each other's skin, steam swirling around them.

 

Axel leaves Roxas's mouth, traveling across his jaw and up, finding an earlobe, which he bites and sucks greedily on while Roxas moans and writhes against him, fingers dancing on Axel's chest, playing over nipples, mimicking Axel's earlier actions. His hands begin to slide down, a straight line down to Axel's navel, fingers brushing through the thin stretch of hair underneath and then lower, nails against Axel's erection, scratching lightly, a biting pleasure. Axel gasps in Roxas's ear, and it makes Roxas's legs buckle.

 

And then Axel is moving, mouth on Roxas's neck, kissing and licking, down to collarbones and shoulders, nipping and nibbling, now on his chest, nipple in mouth, sucking and caressing with his tongue and teeth while Roxas weaves his fingers into Axel's hair, head thrown back, whimpering. Now to his stomach, where Axel dips his tongue into Roxas's navel, tastes and tries and finds it to his liking. Then to thighs, skirting around Roxas's erection, hair brushing against it and causing spots to light to bloom behind Roxas's eyes.

 

And all the while, the water falls and the steam swirls in intricate patterns, but to the two in the bath, the water is cool in comparison to the heat they create.

 

Light bounces off the steam, a click echoes in the bathroom, momentarily drowning out Roxas's groans, and Axel takes him fully in his mouth, lips tightening on his erection. And as Axel begins to move, drawing him in and out in long sucks, Roxas cries out, loud and unheeded, the sound bouncing off the tiles. Unseen by Roxas, Axel grins, tongue massaging the head of Roxas's erection.

 

The coils of pleasure ricocheting throughout Roxas's body suddenly solidify, become a dense mass moving in his stomach, thudding in the same tempo as his pounding heart. It demands release, screams and begs for it, and as Axel cups hanging weight and caresses the junction between Roxas's member and the rest of his body, it explodes in white heat and light, Roxas's hips jerking out of control, fingers clenched in Axel's hair, screaming.

 

Axel rides him out until the last of the thrusts subside, sticky white spattering the floor to be washed away, drops of it on Axel's face and mouth. He straightens, supporting Roxas in his arms, the blonde still gasping and leaning against him, and then he lifts him up, pushing Roxas against the shower wall, hip to hip.

 

Roxas begins to harden again, and he groans, eyes closed, mouth lolling open. His legs wrap around Axel's back, arms around his neck, and as Axel leans closer to whisper in his ear, Roxas licks the white off Axel's cheek, tasting himself, rolling it around his tongue.

 

“Tell me,” Axel says. “Tell me you need me.”

 

And Roxas answers with no inhibition, “I need you inside me.” It is nothing more than a hiss.

 

There is nothing to use for lubrication in the shower, nor is there time to find any. Axel can only hope the water will be enough. He reaches between their bodies, rubbing his hand along his erection to coat it in his own fluids before placing it at Roxas's entrance. Roxas hisses again, watching Axel's hand hungrily.

 

“Please,” he begs, this time with no need to be asked.

 

Light flares, there is yet another click, pressure, pain, the feeling of being ripped in two, and Roxas grits his teeth and digs his fingers in Axel's back, and Axel gasps and twitches his hips, and the pain burns, burns so badly, and then it's gone, a curiously numb feeling settling over Roxas, and then, as Axel begins to thrust in and out, slow at first, then quicker, the pleasure begins to build, and Roxas bites down into Axel's shoulder, moaning into skin while Axel pants in his ear.

 

“It feels so good to be filled like this, to be impaled over and over again,” Roxas thinks, legs pulling Axel closer, the solid mass in his stomach pooling again, this time hotter, more insistent, more intent. Roxas can feel himself tightening, can feel Axel become tauter, close to snapping, and feels wantonly proud that he's the cause of it.

 

And as the tension snaps, as they both come, screaming each other's names, pleasure exploding, white dripping down their thighs, as light flashes and clicks echo, the water continues to fall, cool against their hot and sweaty bodies.

 

Some hours later, sitting on the plushy couch by the window, Roxas remembers the photo he wants to show Axel, but when he gets the camera and cuddles up to Axel's chest, that picture is buried beneath several new ones, and Roxas blushes scarlet as Axel asks, “So, which one would you prefer to use? Personally, I think we should do another shoot and choose from there.”

 

oOo

 

 

Porn for Axel/Roxas day. Glad I started it two days beforehand, or I would have never finished it on time.

 

Yes, `water' would have been a good title for Axel/Demyx or anything concerning Demyx, but hey, they did it in a shower.

 

But anyway, yeah, Happy Axel/Roxas day to all my Yaoi fangirls! And for today, since it is 8/13, it's seme!Axel and uke!Roxas. Just for today though.

 

Reviews are welcome.