Water

----

It's almost drowning wet, and Axel can't see. Demyx's breath tastes like sulphur, and his lips taste the same, like sulphur and salt, and minerals from deep inside the earth. The water that his hands slide over Axel's body is as hot as Axel himself, and with Demyx's magic behind it, it feels better than he'd ever credit water for feeling. His eyelids flutter, because he wants to see Demyx's face, but a wet hand comes up to cover them.

"Keep your eyes closed," Demyx says, his voice low and cool. Dripping fingers brush gently over his eyelids, and down his cheeks, skirting his tattoos by a hairsbreadth, and Axel gasps. Demyx's mouth finds his again, soft and gentle, and that hand continues down his body, drawing more water out of the hotspring beneath them. The water is hot enough that it doesn't just steam away in Axel's natural body-heat; if he wants to evaporate it, he has to make the effort.

Demyx's hand stops on his hip, skin-on-skin, but his touch goes beyond his hand, extending into the water itself, teasing and sliding over his body, as far up as his neck. Axel flexes his hands on the rocky edge of the hotspring, but he keeps them where they were put earlier. For now.

He moans, and arches up against his junior, because those hands, that touching water, is everywhere except where he most wants it to be. Demyx laughs, cool and low, and Axel can feel that thin smile, like a mirror of his own, against his lips. Both of Demyx's hands close on his hips for a moment, and then start sliding slowly down his thighs, and Axel has to squeeze his eyes to keep them shut.

"Eyes closed, Axel," Demyx says again. Axel can feel the brush of his junior's hair on the underside of his throat, and a moment later, the wet hardness of teeth scraping over his collarbone. "You have to trust me, or I won't touch you."

"I don't trust anyone," Axel says, his voice steady. "And neither should you." Demyx laughs again, and then there are teeth in his earlobe, and Axel gasps again. Demyx's thumbs slide over his hip-bones, firm pressure, going down, down... Until those hands turn, and fingers brush lightly over his length.

Axel arches up and moans again.

"That's it," Demyx murmurs, stroking him again. "I think you do trust me." Wet lips on his neck, on his throat, and Axel stiffens. He feels Demyx smile, and then the hands on his hips are gone. Before he can more than open his mouth to protest, those hands - wet, and carrying more water with them - are in his hair, gripping tight, and pulling his head back until he cries out. And then Demyx is kissing him like he means it, hard and deep and rough like stormy seas, and he leaves Axel gasping when he draws away.

"Demyx--" Axel breaths. His voice feels wet in his throat, and he swallows.

"Open your eyes," Demyx replies. Axel's eyes snap open, and focus immediately on Demyx's face. On his eyes, and they're just as dark as he imagined. Demyx rolls his hips, and Axel moves to meet it, groaning at the sensation of their cocks pressed between them, his eyes falling shut to slits again. There's a sharp tug on his hair, and he can feel Demyx's arms flexing.

Axel leans up, pulling his hair against Demyx's hands, until his can brush his lips against his junior's. Demyx's hands loosen, and slide through his hair, down the back of his neck. The water around him is loose, and just gently moving, stroking over his skin like so many fingers.

He sighs, and Demyx smiles, and then... Everything's disorienting for long seconds, as the water rises, and Axel moves, fast, as fast as he does in battle, and burns. His head stops spinning as the steam swirls up, and Demyx gives a strangled, gasping scream, and Axel pins him back against the rock, one knee between their legs, and bodies pressed together.

"Remember what I was just saying about trust?" Axel says, leaning in. Demyx gives a light laugh.

"What makes you think this wasn't what I was trying for?" he asks.

"I don't. Ask me if I care," Axel replies, rocking against him.

"I know you don't," Demyx retorts sharply, his voice cool and even. His arms flex and strain just a little against Axel's hands, enough to be a reminder of his greater physical strength, and no more.

And then there's the press of a very solid-feeling mass of hot water at his back. Watery arms wrap around his waist, and watery fingers trail down his stomach, and Axel can't do anything but look at Demyx. And then there's a hot watery mouth on the join of his neck and shoulder, and Demyx smirks up at him.

Axel almost wishes it didn't feel so good; near-solid water, hissing and steaming and reforming against him. Watery teeth press against his skin, but don't come close to breaking it. The tongue slides over his shoulder, and the mouth gives a sucking kiss that almost manages to be obscene, and his hands tighten on Demyx's wrists.

Slick watery hands slide over Axel's stomach, teasing at his hips in time with the mouth moving on his neck. Demyx's hands flex, turning to brush his fingertips on Axel's wrists, and the backs of his hands.

He gasps at the sensation that runs over his skin like nothing so much as flowing water. And the watery mouth moves to the back of his neck, the tongue tracing out his vertebrae, and water rises with a hissing steaming line of sting over his thighs.

"So are you going to fuck me?" Demyx asks, rocking his hips sharply up.

"I was thinking about it," Axel replies. "But I think I can get off just fine like this." Demyx laughs.

"Maybe. But will you be as satisfied without me moving under you?" He arches up again, sliding his whole body against Axel's, matching the sudden slide of the watery body behind him, both wet and warm.

Axel swallows, and Demyx laughs again. The watery hands move to wrap around his length, working with a musician's dexterity, with 　Demyx's dexterity, fingers moving in all the good ways.

"I hate you," he says, leaning down to breathe the words in Demyx's ear.

"But you still like this," Demyx says. One of the watery hands moves up to trail through his hair, and then tugs sharply.

"Yeah," Axel allows. "I do." Likes it too much, still, far too much. It's water, Demyx is water, and he knows it shouldn't feel this good.

Axel moves his other leg between Demyx's, and his junior spreads them wide, shifting to accomodate, and hooking them up over Axel's hips. There's another tug in his hair, and the hand on his length gives one more stroke before moving to his hip.

Demyx's eyes are dark, and narrow, and challenging, and Axel's never been one to resist a challenge. Even when it's no challenge at all to thrust into Demyx. It's all so slick, and Demyx arches and moans, still looking at him with those dark eyes.

The watery hands in his hair tug again, and Axel goes with it, tipping his head back, to look at the watery-blue duplicate of the Nobody beneath him. The watery smile matches the one on Demyx's face. The watery mouth of Demyx's clone meets his own, softer than it looks. It doesn't last long, before the mouth is on his neck again, and the hands are sliding down his body.

When Axel thrusts, the water clone at his back moves smoothly with him. It's an unusual sensation, and different, but the mouth stays on his neck, sucking, and the fingers are sliding over his nipples, and he'll never admit it in so many words, but it's good; almost overwhelming, with Demyx beneath him, and Demyx behind him.

He shifts his hands slightly on Demyx's wrists, and it gives his junior enough room to turn his hands, and grasp Axel's wrists, and pull. The water clone pushes at the same time, and Axel's pressed between the two of them, sliding and moving in the water with each thrust.

Demyx's length is hard between their stomachs, and Axel deliberately flexes those muscles against it. He gets a long moan from his junior, and in spite of his own overwhelmed senses, Axel smirks.

"Let go, and I'll touch you," he says, releasing one of Demyx's wrists, and tugging. Demyx slowly opens his fingers, and runs his hand up Axel's arm, before dropping it to his hip, and smirking right back.

"Go on then," he says. The clone drops a hand to lace its watery fingers with Demyx's on Axel's hip.

And Axel does, slowing his thrusts so he can concentrate, drawing gradually heating fingers down Demyx's face, his neck. He traces his junior's collarbone, and continues down his chest, sending up hissing gouts of steam, as his temperature rises sharply above boiling.

Demyx gasps, and throws his head back, his eyes glazing over, and the reaction sends a jolt of pleasure right to Axel's groin. He thrusts hard as his hand trails down Demyx's stomach, and finally ignites his fingers as they brush against his junior's length.

Demyx's voice is competely lost in those few seconds, his entire body rigid, his head thrown back, his fingers digging into Axel's flesh, and his body tightening into his rigidity. The clone's fingers mirror Demyx's, water a hard pressure on his hip and chest, and watery teeth closing with bruising pressure on his neck.

Axel moans, and tightens his own grip on Demyx's wrist, flames flaring up his other arm, engulfing his hand and licking Demyx's skin. He holds it back from damaging his junior, but only just; the way Demyx just keeps moaning makes him think the other doesn't really care.

His fingers move down over Demyx's balls, and lower, sliding into him along with the next thrust. The steam is so thick he can barely see Demyx, and so loud he can barely hear the long, high moan that that touch brings.

"Like that?" he asks, his voice rough and shaky.

"A-axel..." Demyx doesn't manage more than that, moaning again, and arching into it. Axel smirks broadly, and works his fingers along with each thrust; it takes a certain amount of concentration, but it's worth the effort to have Demyx writhing and moaning beneath him. To have the water clone at his back shaky, and less solid with each passing moment.

"Can you feel it?" he asks abruptly. "What that clone of yours feels?" Demyx gives him a dark look, and that's answer enough for Axel. But the watery hand on his chest moves down, sliding over his hip, and stomach, and lacing through his pubic hair to brush along his length, touching Axel's fingers and sending up a hissing stinging gout of steam. They keep their shape, as they follow Axel's thrust into Demyx's body, and they both gasp.

"Everything," Demyx breathes, arching up, and smirking.

"Fuck--" Axel gasps. Water. That nearly-solid water, sliding along his length, working in time with his own fingers.

"Yeah," Demyx moans. There's a constant sting now where fire meets water, and it hurts, in all the best ways. The clones fingers are stroking him as much as they're fucking Demyx, and there's something about that, about the knowledge that Demyx feels all of it that makes the whole thing even better.

Axel keeps his thrusts slow and hard and deep, so he can keep working his fingers, keep feeling the watery fingers that slide along his length. Demyx's free hand kneads at his hip, something that seems almost affectionate, except for the darkness in his junior's eyes.

And then the water clone suddenly dissovles, in a gout of steam and boiling water that pours over his back, and onto Demyx's arching body. He falls limp against the rock, and it's only then that Axel realises the dissolving clone was a reflection of Demyx's orgasm; even the wrist under his hand has gone limp, and Demyx keeps making those little soft high moaning sounds at each thrust.

Axel withdraws his fingers from Demyx's body, making his junior gasp, and sets his hand, still flickering with flames on Demyx's hip.

"Still good?" he asks, gripping Demyx's flesh tightly. He leans forward to press his body against his junior's. "Do you still like it?" he asks, speaking the words softly into Demyx's ear

"Y-yesss..." Demyx hisses, still limp beneath him. "I like it. Axel..." Axel thrusts harder in response, and Demyx gives a soft cry. His hand comes up to fist in Axel's hair, and hold his head in place. He keeps whispering as Axel fucks him, obscene, wanting things, and it doesn't take Axel much longer to come like that. It rolls over his senses like a wave, and it isn't until long seconds afterwards that he realises that the metaphor is much more literal.

Hard stone at his back, Demyx on top of him, and water up to his neck, licking over his face. It clings to his skin when he raises an arm, and Demyx just gives him that cold, dark look, that makes him want to spread his legs and beg to be fucked.

"You still like it," Demyx says again, softly, shifting the water around Axel's body.

"Yeah. I do," Axel admits. Demyx settles himself close, and Axel wraps an arm around him automatically.

"Good."