Not Jailbait

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Axel owns the dancefloor, oh yeah, moving smoothly to the beat that pounds in hsi blood. But the blonde kid he's grinding with can't be legal, so when a hand snags his, and starts dragging him off, he doesn't object; he can always tell whoever it is to fuck off after he's away from the jailbait.

He has nothing to blame but the darkness of the club, and his own sheer stupidity for the fact that they're already halfway up the stairs before he realises that it's the kid dragging him up there.

"Whoa, whoa, hey hold on a minute here," he says, digging in his heels on the next step. The kid stops, and turns to look back at him, eyes less than an inch above his, even though he's a step up.

"What."

"...You're kidding, right? Do I look like a criminal to you?" Axel asks. "You can't be more than what, fourteen?"

That gets a sharp sudden glare, hard, from eyes that he realises abruptly are the most brilliant blue he's ever seen.

"I'm legal," the kid says, and Axel almost laughs.

"Yeah, right," he says.

"I am," the kid insists, and scowls deeply at Axel. The pout is pure jailbait, and Axel feels a sudden urge to lean forward and bite that lower lip sticking out of him just like that. And immediately suppresses it; jailbait. Before he gets the chance to say another fucking word though, there's a piece of plastic with the kid's picture (scowling at the camera, and why isn't he surprised) on it shoved into his face.

He snatches it away before he realises what he's doing, and holds it up for inspection, turning it at angles, checking the imprint. It looks real, as far as he can tell, and he'd know; and much to his surprise, the kid is legal, if just barely.

He looks away from the plastic, to the expectant look on the kid's - 'Roxas,' according to the card - face.

"I'm still eleven years older than you are," he says, flipping the card back. "You're way too young for me." Roxas catches the card with admirable dexterity, running it through long fingers that tell Axel he's got some height to gain still.

"I don't think you're too old," Roxas says. "Even if you are as old as you say."

"Flattery won't get you anywhere," Axel replies.

"Flattery? You're hot, but you're not that hot," Roxas retorts.

"Yeah, actually, I am." Axel feels the smirk spreading on his face at the twitch and blush that Roxas gives, and then he stops. Roxas, that sly little barely-not-jailbait kid is flirting with him.

About the same time as he's realising that, Roxas' hands are being buried in his hair, holding tight, and pulling him in close for a kiss.

His lips are only very slightly parted, dry enough on the outside that it makes Axel want to flick his own tongue out to wet them. When another wet tongue slips out to meet his own, he realises that he hadn't just thought about it.

A small sound, almost like a protest comes from his throat, and Roxas responds by tightening his grip, and pressing the kiss. He draws back, finally, kissing lightly with just his lips, giving them both a chance to breathe.

Not such an easy task, when Roxas has every inch of his body pressed to Axel that he can have pressed, without knocking them both back down the stairs. They're both hard; Axel would be a black-tongued liar if he said he wasn't turned on. Which is just great, and he'd swear he can feel the kid smirking into the kiss that just keeps going on, and isn't really bad at all.

By the time Roxas finally breaks away for real, and lets his hair go, Axel is almost ready to say fuck those eleven years; the age difference doesn't seem to matter as much when he's the one being... well, dragged off by his hair. Almost literally.

"Come on," Roxas says. His voice is husky and low, and still obviously, painfully young, and still, still, even though he can barely think Axel almost says 'no.' But Roxas doesn't give him a chance, one hand dropping to take his, and back to dragging him up the steps.

This club has rooms upstairs, and a few downstairs too, for special events, private parties, and though it's not listed on the publicity, dragging someone off to get laid. It's the room furthest down to the left that Axel gets dragged to, and he's distantly grateful for that; the rooms at the back are smaller, and soundproofed, and kept very clean. He should know.

The doors lock on the inside, and Roxas even slides the bolt, which is a dangerous thing to have on doors like these, but whatever; it's not like Axel needs rescuing. Not really.

He's at an advantage - or maybe a disadvantage - in that he's already half-undressed; the club is hot and close, and he doesn't mind the contact-high from people tripping on whatever's in right now, so why bother with a shirt? And Roxas' hands almost feel hot on his skin, when his baseline temperature has always been high enough to make other people think he's running a fever, and just a little damp from sweaty palms, and Axel wonders if it's nerves, or just the club.

He stops wondering when Roxas plants his open mouth right on his chest, just under his collarbone, hard teeth scraping skin just a little, and if he hadn't been hard before, that would have done it, right there. He shouldn't be letting this happen, he's eleven fucking years older, but it seems like Roxas knows exactly what he wants, and he doesn't fight it when a hand holds tight in his hair again, and pulls him down to the kid's own level.

"Hey," Roxas says into his ear. "What the hell is your name, anyway?" Axel does laugh at that. The response has Roxas biting his ear. "Don't laugh at me," the kid continues, talking around Axel's ear. "I'm serious."

There are a million cliche lines that Axel could give him right now, and he tastes every single one of them when he licks his lips.

"Axel," he finally says, discarding all the dumb lines, because he doesn't think they'll deter Roxas in the least. "Got it memorised?" The teeth let go of his ear, finally.

"Yeah," Roxas says. He also lets go of Axel's hair again, but only because he needs both hands to ohgod unbutton Axel's tight leather pants and that's really good because his pants are getting really painful to wear and Roxas' hands are nice. Axel arches his hips helpfully as Roxas peels him out of his pants, taking his boots with them, clever kid (although Axel wouldn't mind being fucked in either or both of them, and just when did that become the inevitable outcome of this in his mind?).

Which leaves him naked with his back against the door, and Roxas still in all his clothes, stepping back to look at him with half-lidded eyes, and this pleased little smirk on his face. Then he starts stripping out of his own clothes; not like a strip-tease or anything, but more like someone getting rid of something that annoys him.

His body has the stringy unfinished lines of a teenager; he's nowhere near grown into his hands and feet, and Axel would bet he's had a growth spurt lately. That thought reminds him hey, Roxas is kind of a kid, but he doesn't get to dwell on that thought long, because Roxas is pressing up against him, and pulling him down by his hair again, this time really for another kiss.

It lasts just long enough to fuzz up Axel's thoughts again, and to steal his breath away, before Roxas pulls back.

"Turn around," he says, his voice a little lower than it had been before. "You're too tall."

"What the hell does that mean?" Axel asks, though he can guess.

"Just turn around," Roxas says, pushing at his shoulders. Axel looks at him for a minute, and then goes with it, turning to face the bolted door. He rests his hands on its smooth, painted surface (soundproofed steel underneath), and sighs when he feels Roxas' hands sliding down his back. They land on his hips, and he wonders for a minute if the kid is going to make some snarky remark (it's happened more than once before), but all he does is tug back, like he wants Axel to move.

So he does, sliding back until Roxas stops tugging.

"Good," he hears the kid breathe, quietly, like he's not intending it to necessarily be heard by anyone else but himself. Axel's bent over nearly double at the hips, with his spine arched back to keep his head up, leaning against the door for support. It's the sort of thing even he'll find uncomfortable long-term, but for now, it's just kind of hot.

Roxas' fingertips slide over his hips, through his pubic hair, to wrap around his length, and stroke lightly.

"Yesss..." Axel hisses, and thrusts into that touch, and Roxas obliges him by tightening his fingers, and moving his hands again. And then he abruptly draws away, and Axel can hear his pulse thundering his ears. After a few seconds, the sound of Roxas rummaging through his clothes breaks through his own internal soundtrack. There's a plastic pop, and a few moments of silence, and then Roxas' hands are on him again, one with a cool tube curled in his fingers, holding his hip, and the other pushing slick-lubed fingers into him.

Axel moans, and rocks back on Roxas' fingers.

"Hold still," Roxas mutters. Axel complies, because there's a certain something in the kid's tone that makes him think that maybe he's not very experienced in this. It's okay, but it'd be really dumb to make things harder on both of them. Roxas' fingers move inside him carefully and thoroughly, occasionally just barely brushing against his prostate, just enough to tease him, and not quite enough to make him think Roxas is doing it on purpose.

Roxas' hands leave him again, and this time, Axel turns his head, and looks back over his shoulder. He can't help himself, and he's glad he does, because it means he gets to see Roxas popping open the lube again, and slicking it over himself, all while he watches Axel through long, dark-blond lashes. A smirk twitches up the corners of Roxas' mouth, and he licks his lips before letting the lube drop to the floor.

Axel turns his head forward again, and slides his feet a little wider apart. It makes his stance more awkward, and even less comfortable, but it'll make the angle better, if he's gauging things right.

Slick hands slide over his hips again, before getting a grip to give Roxas leverage, and then Axel can feel him, slippery and sliding between his cheeks, and then pushing in.

He isn't stretched enough for this to be comfortable, but he can more than take it; could've taken it without the lube, if things had gone that way. The moan coming from Roxas echoes his own, and that's good, and--

"--god that's good," Axel gasps, when Roxas is pressed completely against him, and deep inside, and then he starts to thrust. Roxas makes a sound that's probably agreement, and his hands slide forward from Axel's hips, back where they'd been earlier, wrapping around his length again, and stroking as he thrusts.

Axel makes a small gasping sound as each thrust rocks into him, and even if Roxas isn't very experienced (and he still has that kind of gut feeling about the kid, if only because he's so young; he's definitely less experienced than Axel himself), he's doing a good job, hitting Axel's prostate every few thrusts, and working his length with a kind of determined passion.

Most of the time, he can outlast anyone fucking him, but Roxas has gone out of his way to wind him up beforehand, or maybe it's just sheer dumb luck, and Axel's own horniness, but he doesn't think he's going to last, especially when one of Roxas's hands travels up his body, to work one of his nipples. He comes when Roxas' firm wet tongue hits the small of his back. Roxas' hands tighten for a moment, and keep working him through his orgasm, and doesn't let up on his thrusts.

And he still keeps going, when Axel wants to just slump to the floor, and that's kind of sexy. Axel keeps leaning against the door, and making small noises when Roxas thrusts into him.

Axel can tell when Roxas finishes; he holds still, suddenly, and groans low, pressing his face to Axel's back. And then for a few moments, he just breathes, before pulling out. He stays slumped against Axel long enough that Axel decides screw it, and turns so his back is to the door, and he can wrap his arms around Roxas. The kid doesn't protest as Axel slides them both to the ground, resting against the wall.

He's going to be really sore when the afterglow wears off, and they're already sticky and messy, but that's the way it should be.