Something That Lingers

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It's less than a week that they avoid each other. Axel would have gone longer, he's sure, but Demyx pushes him against a wall after his next mission, and looks at him like that, eyes narrow, demeanor hard, and--

"Damn," he breathes, and Demyx smirks.

"I think I know you," he replies, sliding one hand up into Axel's hair. He's taller, and Axel's reminded of it, when they're close like this, standing together, and Demyx isn't faking. And it burns a little, but he has to admit, his junior's right about this. Which means he should say no, because predictability is a good way to become less, less necessary, less needed, less vital, less--

He doesn't want that.

The hand not in his hair finds his wrist, and he automtically balls his hand into a fist, flexing the tendons of his wrist, looking for a little give, but Demyx's hand is up under the wide cuff of his coat, with nothing but a pair of gloves between their skins. And like Axel's hands are hot, Demyx's are cool, and he can feel it.

Demyx tugs on his hair a little, but he keeps his head still, except for a little involuntary twitch.

"I still want you," he says. His breath is cool on Axel's skin, and smells very strongly of salt again; he's been in some ocean or another, but it doesn't taste like Atlantica.

"Yeah?" Axel asks, like he doubts it. The way that Demyux says it this time, without that bit of a whine, without that uncertainty that he constantly fakes, is--

Not the kind of thought he likes completing, which he supposes makes him a bit of a hypocrit, lying by omission; Demyx has been a bad influence on his self-honesty. The thought makes him laugh.

"You wouldn't believe me," he says, before his junior can ask. "This is such a fucking bad idea. Come on." He uses his other hand to get a grip on Demyx's coat, and pull him through the dark paths. It's only a short step, here in the Castle, where everything's so close by, and easy to find, just by resonances.

Anyone else would call them 'feelings,' Axel thinks absently, as he steps through into Demyx's room. The way Demyx feels surprised right now, he's sure, judging by the look on his face. But the first six are all scientists, all about technicalities, and Axel supposes he can appreciate their need for precision in definition. It keeps fuzzy logic out of things.

"If you want me, make me feel it," Axel demands.

"Why should I?" Demyx asks, tightening his hand in Axel hair again, tugging just a little. This time Axel lets him, goes with it, the little way it goes.

"Because I said so," he replies, smirking a little.

"And what makes you think that means anything?" Demyx's eyes narrow a little more, cold, and blue like the sea just before it turns black.

"Doesn't it?" Axel asks. Silence passes for at least a minute, and stillness to go with it, neither of them shifting, neither of them breathing.

"Damn you," Demyx says finally. He spins like a sudden change in tide, and Axel goes with that, too, and quickly finds himself pressed against the wall again, by Demyx's bed. "Damn you," he says again, squeezing Axel's wrist. Axel hisses, because that fucking hurts, but he feels it. Demyx presses their bodies together, hard - Axel can feel his arousal, through layers of leather - and then leans in, to kiss him.

Very, very gently. Just a light, slow brush of his lips, and--

It tingles, a slow crawl of pleasure over his skin, little sparks of it dancing down his spine, and Axel makes a small sound. He feels Demyx smirking against his lips, and hisses.

"Feeling it yet?" Demyx murmurs. He pulls his hand from Axel's hair, and uses his teeth to pull the glove off, spitting it out onto the ground, before sliding fingers over Axel's face, and down his throat. Axel sighs softly, and says nothing yet. His junior's fingers slip under his zipper, and pull slowly, deliberately sliding skin against skin, drawing out the stinging steam, because Axel hasn't cooled enough yet, to let the water condense instead.

Axel's shoulders tense up all on their own, and he hisses with the steam. Demyx unzips him to the hips, and peels the leather back off his shoulders, bending to lick the line from his collarbone to his shoulder. His mouth is much wetter than his skin, and the sting is almost a burn, and it makes them both gasp.

Do it again, he doesn't say. But Demyx does it anyway, without being told, and Axel moans. Demyx pushes the coat further down over Axel's arms, to just above his elbows, leaving him deliberately tangled in his own tight sleeves. He draws away just enough that Axel can see his thin smirk.

"I think you're feeling something now, Axel," he says. "Am I right?" Axel takes a deep breath, and lets it out, still not saying anything. Demyx squeezes his wrist again, fingertips pressing into his tendons. "Am I right?"

Axel gasps, and his fingers twitch reflexively.

"Yeah," he says finally. Demyx's face softens slightly, but his grip on Axel's wrist doesn't relent.

"Good." He tips his head to kiss Axel again, still slowly, and soft, his hand slowly relaxing. Before long, Axel has enough room to rotate his wrist a little, but a brief tightening of Demyx's hand is all he needs to know that he won't be released just yet. That's fine with him, as long as Demyx can keep it up.

Demyx's tongue slides over his lips, and into his mouth when he lets it, leaning in, and returning the kiss, just as slowly, and Demyx moans appreciatively, pressing even closer, and sliding the lines of their bodies together, until the match comfortably.

Axel breaks the kiss in a reflexive gasp, his head tipping back, and thunking against the wall. The air around them is steamy and damp, and heavy on Axel's exposed skin.

"And now?" Demyx murmurs. That's when Axel realises his eyes are closed, and he opens them a slit, looking out through the steam at his junior. Demyx gives him a thin smile, a certain amount of smugness in it, but Axel can't find it in himself to blame him.

"Yes," he sighs softly. His voice is rough and scratchy, but it doesn't show much at this volume. The surface of his skin feels cool, but it's still hot enough to steam when Demyx touches him. "Damn..."

Demyx kisses him again, but only for a moment, because his mouth and bare fingers start wandering over Axel's skin. His touch is soft, behind the sting of steam, almost too soft, and deceptively gentle, but he can't focus on the important part the deceptive part, and so he give a surprised gasp to feel hard wet teeth on his skin, lightly scraping over his collarbone.

He's still pressed hard against the wall, and he's secretly glad of it, because he doesn't think his legs will hold on their own any longer. The air is too heavy. Demyx is too much, and he's kissing Axel again, slow and deep and hard. It's almost obscene, and it's exactly what Axel needs.

He goes with it when Demyx moves him to his bed, and the thick bedding pads the space between himself and the hard mattress. Demyx strips out of his clothes, and Axel watches him through narrow eyes. The steam is thick enough that it obscures some details, but Demyx's form is very nice outside of his bulky coat, sleek and muscular, without being bulky, though he has more mass than Axel.

Then he slides pver the bed, and starts peeling Axel out of the rest of his clothing, deliberately skimming skin over skin, and pouring enough attention into Axel that he doesn't try to help.

"How about now?" he murmurs into Axel's ear, sliding their bodies together again, skin-on-skin, hissing and stinging and so good. He kisses Axel again, lightly, when he doesn't answer. His hands slide up Axel's arms, holding both his wrists, and Axel stiffens, a thread of alarm shooting through him.

"Don't," he all but snaps, his fingers curving, his arms pulling. "You can have one, but not both." Demyx nods.

"All right," he says, releasing one of Axel's wrists. "How's this then?" he asks, trailing his fingers in a hissing line down Axel's arm, across his shoulder, up his neck, into his hair, like it had been before.

Axel nods, and the hand in his hair tightens a little.

"This is all right," he says. Though not too long ago, it wouldn't have been. he doesn't dwell on the thought though, because Demyx is pulling his head back, licking his mouth for another kiss. Axel leans up into it, as much as he can, and arches his body into Demyx's. The sting of steam is less now, because his body is cooling, on the surface.

Axel hooks a leg up around Demyx's hip, and pull him a little closer. The hand that's been freed stays where it is, up near the other, up above his head. Demyx glances up at it, and then back at Axel, a brief flicker of acknowledgement in his eyes. The hand in Axel's hair loosens, and goes slack for a moment, before sliding down to Axel's hip, stroking in the hollow there, and lifting his other leg, giving himself better leverage, but for the moment, he just remains pressed against Axel, so close you couldn't fit paper between them.

"Ah, Demyx, damn it," Axel mutters, pressing up against him. His skin is cool enough now that they're not steaming at all, and he knows soon water will start condensing on it; it'll stay that way as long as he lets it. The twist of Demyx's lips is almost cruel, but his eyes are just a little too cool for true cruelty; it's something still beyond any of them, just barely, but it makes Axel think of cruelty, which is almost the same as feeling it.

His hands twitch, both the one still pinned, and the one only held by his own will, but he still waits, staring at Demyx without blinking.

"Yes?" Demyx murmurs his expression barely shifting. He rocks his hips against Axel, slowly, and Axel bites back a moan this time, not going to give him the satisfction.

"If you don't fuck me, I'm going to nail you to your own bed until you can't move," Axel says, his voice hoarse with the moisture in the air, rough and raspy, and barely even there. Demyx laughs, and something in his laugh matches his smile, and damn it, it goes right to Axel's libido, and he wants it even more.

And Demyx is still laughing when he thrusts into Axel, one long sooth motion, like a rolling wave, and it hurts, but it's good, and Axel doesn't cry out, but he comes close. He locks his legs tighter around Demyx, and pushes back. In spite of his cooled skin, he's still hot inside, and the coolness of Demyx underscores that, and it's good.

Demyx is focused, and slow, a little too slow, really, but it's okay for the moment. It's still good. Axel moves with his junior, rocking and moving, and finally undulating his body against Demyx, flexing himself in a way that's had positive results before, and it doesn't fail him now; Demyx makes a small sound, and thrusts harder, faster for a few moments, for a few moments, before regaining control of himself, and a frustrated sound comes out of Axel's throat.

"You may be getting what you want, but you won't get it easily," Demyx murmurs, laughing again, that same laugh that makes Axel think almost of cruelty.

"Damn it," Axel breathes, arching up into Demyx again. His hands twitch again, but he keeps the free one where it is, and he can see Demyx's eyes narrow slightly, speculatively, flicking up at his hands again. He gives Axel's wrist a slight squeeze, and Axel responds by flexing his hand.

"What is it?" he asks, looking up at Demyx, and rocking his hips a little again, pushing himself up against Demyx's stomach.

"If I let your hand go, will you keep it there?" Demyx asks. "Like the other one?" Axel's been half-expecting the question, but he still has to consider his answer. He licks his lips twice before coming to a decision, and each time, Demyx's eyes shift, colour darkening, pupils dilating, and when Axel does it a third time, deliberately, oh yes--

The hand on his wrist and the hand on his hip both tighten, and Axel thinks he's found another button to push. He licks his lips again, and smirks a little.

"I'll keep it there," he says. "As long as you don't do something I don't like." Demyx gives him a nod, like that's fair, and releases his wrist, only to slide his hand down to Axel's other hip. He can immediately feel the improved leverage that it gives to Demyx, and the leverage it removes from him, but he turns his hands and curls them in the blankets, and hisses "Yes."

Demyx holds still, and holds Axel still, but it doesn't bother him like having his wrists pinned. And he's still holding still, mostly, as he leans forward, holding his body as much away from Axel's as he can, and still speak into his ear.

"Keep your hands where they are, and I'll fuck you like you want me to," Demyx breathes. His breath is cool, and his voice is cool, and it sounds the way his eyes look, when he looks at Axel sometimes, and it makes the breath he doesn't even need catch in his throat.

"Deal." It takes him a few tries to say it, but it's worth it, so fucking worth it, because Demyx kisses him hard, and then starts moving like he means it, fast enough and close enough, pressing their bodies together like they'll melt into one.

Axel keeps up his end, arms stretched above his head, and steady like they're pinned there, making his shoulders ache. He's going to be sore after this, in more ways than one, but it's worth it.

Sore in the very best way, the kind that lingers if he doesn't take a potion or find a Gummi point, that aches when he moves, and reminds him what it is to really feel something. Or as close as any of them can manage.

When he comes, it's probably not the best he's ever had, but it's really fucking good. And he thinks it's probably the same for Demyx, going by the sound he makes when he finishes, or the way he all but falls onto the bed next to Axel, staying close. Axel doesn't object to it; they both, he thinks, got something that they wanted out of this, even if he's not quite sure what that is for Demyx

After a little while though, he moves to get up, to leave before--

--before Demyx's hands tighten on him, holding him, and it's already too late.

"Stay," Demyx says, almost too quietly to be heard.

"Why?" Axel asks, almosyt flatly.

"I want you to," Demyx replies, in the same tone as before.

"What makes you think that that matters?"

"Doesn't it always?"