Posted originally on the Archive_of_Our_Own at https://archiveofourown.org/
works/79090.
  Rating:
      Explicit
  Archive Warning:
      Underage
  Category:
      M/M
  Fandom:
      Kingdom_Hearts
  Relationship:
      Axel/Roxas, Demyx/Xigbar, Lexaeus/Zexion
  Character:
      Organization_XIII
  Additional Tags:
      Alternate_Universe
  Stats:
      Published: 2010-04-10 Chapters: 2/2 Words: 7036
****** Instead Of What The Books Say ******
by Emerald_Embers_(emeraldembers)
Summary
     Who'd want a normal life anyway? Written for the Springkink prompt:
     "Kingdom Hearts 2, Axel/Roxas, AU/AR, accusations of witchcraft, 'A
     man who practises by cup and flame, shall perish by the fire'."
***** Chapter 1 *****
Roxas looked at Axel's outstretched hand, knowing all too well what he was
supposed to do and what he longed to do were different things. Knowing what
Axel was, and the wildness of his heart, his untamed soul.
Roxas looked into Axel's eyes once more, the promise that wherever they went
after this, loneliness would never be part of it.
He took that outstretched hand and ran until his feet were sore.
.
Roxas had an ordinary enough life for a missionary's nephew in a land strange
enough to defy his school books' descriptions. The forests there were as black
as night, even in daytime, nothing of the lightly sketched drawings and
references to green leaves that scholars in his uncle's homeland had written
about. Animals skulked around the village's edges, even through them at night
if lights were not in enough windows to scare them from the centre. And he was
good enough, doing his duties, doing as he was told, learning languages that
had died and reading what his uncle and the school asked him to, leaving the
village girls alone even when he was old enough to notice their rounded hips
and the curves under their aprons.
He'd trained long and hard to follow in his uncle's footsteps even if he didn't
believe the words he had to speak, though he'd been reassured at first by words
and then by hand that if he just kept doing as he was told and concentrated on
his lessons he would come to understand and believe in The Truth.
The truth didn't especially interest him yet, but he was still young enough for
that to change, or so he hoped. He was nimble and quick-fingered but no
reputable professions required such abilities - still, the languages were sure
to be useful someday.
Truth didn't interest him, nor the village, but life did in all its strange
splendour. Small creatures, warm or cold blooded that crawled into his bedroom;
bigger animals too, visible from his window when they came close enough, as
long as they were not so close as to be dangerous. People were so repetitive
but wildlife, light things in the black forest, they were all so different from
one another.
He knew little of the delicate creatures that came to graze at sunrise when the
village was waking but yet to start bustling about, knew less of those that
came at night, even more skittish than their daytime brethren. Those interested
him all the more, creatures that defied sense by avoiding sunlight, and though
he knew it was dangerous, ridiculously so to follow them into the forest at
night, the temptation gnawed and gnawed at him until he had to do something
about it. A blade and rope seemed enough for a short excursion, tying one end
of the rope to a tree close enough to the village for him to find his way back
safely even in pitch black, the other to his belt before he headed off.
Logically he should have been terrified, strange noises all around him and tiny
life moving past, even brushing past his skin, thorns or perhaps tiny, confused
teeth scratching his legs as he went deeper, when a bright flash of light
startled him enough that he did have to quickly find a place to relieve
himself. It wasn't alone, though, and both the colour of the light flashes and
their short life spans were suggestive that they weren't just Ignis Fatuus
swamp lights, though he still clutched the rope a little tighter for fear of
finding himself stepping into marsh soils as he followed the bursts of light
until the rope grew tight. It would be sensible to go no further.
Still, if he were to tie the rope tight to his belt, it could afford him a
little more movement, perhaps enough for a clearer view - and if he tied one
shirtsleeve to the end of that...
There was a snipping sound behind him that had him panicked as the rope grew
taught instead of slackening but common sense in the face of imminent danger
made him hold still, one hand resting on his blade as he prayed he wouldn't
need to use it. Only a man or something manlike enough to be intelligent could
take up a rope like that, and certainly, though the moonlight was weak and the
forest dense, he could see clearly that the creature approaching him and barely
lined in shadows was at least human in shape.
"Not very tall are you?" That was reasonably non-threatening.
"Um..."
There was a sigh and long, skinny fingers closed around his wrist. "Come with
me, I'll take you back to your rope. But don't return, trust me. You're better
off not knowing."
Roxas found himself tugged back to his fallen rope, the end frayed from being
cut while he had been out here and a quick chill went up his spine at the idea
the stranger might have left him lost without the rope to whatever mercy the
night had if he'd only been taller. The sensation of being followed didn't
leave him until he'd neared the town enough to make out the few lit windows
and, in particular, his bedroom's open shutters. "Sleep tight, missionary,"
whispered the shadows and then he was alone, curious, and aching to go back and
see what the shadowed man and the lights had been about.
.
It was a strange experience to walk through the village looking at everyone as
if they were unknowns, wishing he'd seen more than a silhouette and felt more
than skinny fingers. Instinct nudged him towards Demyx, who didn't ever seem to
do more than odd jobs around the village, but that was only because he'd
overheard fishermen whispering stories about Demyx talking to the river when
the fish were running low and there being an abundance of them afterwards every
time. It didn't sound natural but the fishermen were all superstitious
creatures anyway, and would swear to Demyx's innocence whenever an overly pious
citizen decided to investigate further.
Demyx seemed calm enough when Roxas approached him, if a little surprised, his
toes brushing the surface of the water from his seat on the docks. "Morning,
missionary," Demyx greeted with a wink that seemed to know too much. "Any new
claims I'm unnatural or am I in real trouble for once?"
"No, it's nothing like that," Roxas replied. "Um... was it you? In the forest
last night with the li-" Roxas found himself pitched forward in the water,
gasped for air when he returned to the surface. "Huh?"
"Don't talk to him or about him," Demyx replied perkily. "You're better off not
knowing. Oh, and thank your uncle for the ducking - now everyone thinks I'm
innocent." Demyx flashed a too-white grin before getting up and tottering off.
True to what was expected of all innocents Demyx had sunk in the river the one
time rumours escalated to the point of a trial being necessary, and by all
rights given the time taken to get him back out should have drowned. Even
though he'd been fine he wasn't letting Roxas' uncle forget what he'd allowed
to happen.
As to the advice, Roxas considered it carefully before making his mind up.
He was going to need a bigger rope.
.
It took a while to find the flashes second time around but he was treading
carefully this time, his light weight making him stealthy enough without
practise, but as soon as he was within range of the source of the lights he
found himself dropping to his knees out of sight quickly, covering his mouth
and curling up against a nearby tree. The clearing was barely large enough to
qualify as one, but candles surrounded it and in the middle, holding two large
- rings? Spike-edged rings seemed as close as he could come to describing them
- was the red-haired man Roxas knew he'd seen in church and school several
times before, taking a long swig from a chalice he barely managed to hold along
with the ring in his right hand before setting the cup down and going quite
still for a moment. Roxas shivered as he watched Axel shrug off his simple
black garments, kicking them aside impatiently before seeming to get more
comfortable with the rings. Despite the nudity there wasn't a second when Roxas
believed that Axel felt the cold on his skin, skin pale and perfect from
avoiding the sun like a noblewoman, and Roxas had read that it was wrong, god,
so wrong to want to touch another man's skin like that, especially - and his
mind could only whisper it like a dirty secret - especially a witch.
Axel shrugged his shoulders a moment before starting to move, slowly and
hypnotically at first, almost swaying into his twirling of the rings like a
dancer, but all of a sudden the motions sped up and it was impossible, it was
impossible and not natural for Axel's rings to light on fire without coming
into contact with other flames, it was not natural for Axel to be unburnt, but
then the clearing became a wall of flame and Axel was in there, arms and legs
occasionally visible through breaks in the flames as little balls of fiery
light drifted of into the forest, and Roxas was at once terrified and curious
and aroused. Forever seemed to pass when the flames died down and Axel,
hovering barely off the floor but hovering nonetheless, collapsed to his knees
before lying back against the floor, seeming limp.
Roxas couldn't help his instincts, took the rope from around his waist before
tying it up into the branches of the nearest tree and running to Axel's side,
the clearing bizarrely cool and unburnt for what had passed, and he scooped the
red-haired man up into his lap. "Axel? Are you alright?"
Bright, bright green eyes snapped open. "I told you not to come back,
missionary."
"I'm not my uncle," Roxas insisted, stroking his fingers through the -
appropriately - flame red of Axel's hair. The school teachers had called it the
devil's colour in its vividness - no auburn, no ginger, just pure red - and
while he'd been able to hide that for the most part beneath hats that did not
suit him while out in the village, no one had been able to make up their minds
about the marks under his eyes. Triangular birthmarks, though there had been
plenty of debate as to whether they were god's tears or the devil's.
"Why did you follow?" Axel asked, not moving his head and Roxas was suddenly
glad because he'd given no consideration to the evidence of arousal between his
thighs. "So you can tell everyone the truth about the forest witch?"
"I don't talk to other people," Roxas replied, and it seemed strange that Axel
wasn't moving, though maybe it was exhaustion that kept him there. "Not about
things that matter. When I do talk all they ever listen to is my uncle - what
little of him he's ground into me."
"Are you going to tell him about the witch you hunted?" Axel asked, raising an
eyebrow in... judgement? Curiosity? Roxas couldn't tell.
"No."
"... What do you want?" Axel asked, looking up at Roxas and raising one hand to
touch his face, not hesitating even when Roxas instinctively flinched away from
someone else's hand on his skin. He couldn't help but close his eyes and lean
into the touch on realising it was safe despite its making his reaction to Axel
all the more evident, Axel's nudity at once beautiful and alien because it was
so casual, as if he thought nothing of being naked in the middle of the forest.
"I'm not trading sex for safety."
"I wouldn't tell anyone anyway," Roxas said, his own fingers frozen in Axel's
hair as the red-haired man's hand stroked down his cheek, thumb tracing his
lips. "I don't want you endangered."
Axel slipped his thumb between Roxas' lips briefly before pulling his hand away
so he could suck the moisture off. "Do I scare you?"
"No. Yes. You're strange," Roxas stammered out, feeling his breath come faster
and unsteady. "I want to understand this."
Axel's fingers were skinny as he remembered as they worked on the buttons of
his shirt and he really should have protested, the night air chilling his skin
as it was exposed, but he didn't want to, felt as if he was dancing on the edge
between the world he'd lived in for so long and a world he wanted to live in, a
world where everything was strange and beautiful like a fire witch; like this
fire witch who had to be casting some sort of spell on him, his nerves shivery
with more than the cold. "What do you want this to be?" Axel asked, eyes
intense when they met Roxas' own.
"I want this to be normal instead of what the books say."
Axel got up at last, turning so he was kneeling in front of Roxas, hands
working swiftly on unbuckling and unbuttoning and freeing his erection and if
he hadn't squeezed tight around the base Roxas would have been gone there and
then. "There's one hell of a lot of good things those books don't teach," Axel
said, kissing Roxas briefly before lowering himself and then, then his mouth
was hot and wet around Roxas' erection and the hand was gone, and there was
little to do but buck up helplessly and wonder where the hell normality had
disappeared off to.
.
How Roxas was to keep a straight face in church he had no idea, especially when
Demyx and Axel decided to take seats either side of him - Demyx, who people
openly knew wasn't quite right, who hadn't been to church in years because he'd
never bothered to keep up a charade and, in the end, had never needed to. And
Demyx winked! "You said not to go," Roxas hissed mid-hymn to Demyx, who just
smirked and whispered back,
"Was there a surer way to make sure you did?"
Axel said nothing, just stood close enough to make sure their legs brushed when
they knelt, keeping his face straight as if still playing the part of a normal
villager as per usual, even when the missionary looked over their way with
impotent fury at his nephew being sandwiched between the devil-haired boy and
the cockiest witch ever born in the godforsaken country.
Not quite as impotently furious after the service though, spitting venom at the
serenely amused Demyx and glaring at Axel with the sort of fury that might have
enabled a traditional fairytale witch to kill someone. Roxas kept his own
innocent face in place for as long as he was able, inwardly sighing; given just
having Axel sat by him was enough to send his uncle into an apoplectic rage,
something suggested any liaisons with Axel were going to involve more secrecy
than heading to one another's homes and locking the doors and windows. Not that
the level of precaution necessary was surprising, just... sad. As much as he
didn't share his uncle's beliefs and doubted that the man loved him, he was
still family and he liked to hold out some hope that he'd soften a little
someday.
.
It was quite upsetting to discover that Axel's aptitude for fire magic and
Demyx's for water magic were just natural traits - that people tended to simply
be born that way. And moreover, their magic only extended to their respective
elements, so despite the way Demyx's behaviour had been noted to have a
'visionary' feel to it by one or two people, Roxas knew it was nonsense. Yes,
once or twice he predicted things that came true, but he always called it
coincidence and Axel explained it away as "Demyx can't see the future - he's
just smart enough and observant enough to figure out what most people are going
to do before they do it". Also explained why he didn't have a doom and gloom
air around him; his carefree moments rang true and he was identifiably young.
Everyone had the capability for working with magic, Axel said, but finding out
one's affinity was the hardest task because so many bordered on obscure. A
little girl two countries over only discovered hers on being hit by lightning
four times without the slightest burn, and Demyx claimed to have met one guy
who'd learnt his when he accidentally walked off a cliff while drunk and never
got around to falling, though that did sound a little as though the two were
pulling his leg.
And speaking of pulling legs, in this case apart, Axel was insatiable.
Admittedly the first time they'd met properly had ended with Axel's face
between his legs so that should have been a sign, but it was still startling
when the second time they were alone together Axel pinned him up against a
tree, doing things with his hands there were unholy sorts of good.
The third time Axel had knelt over Roxas and lowered himself, taking Roxas in,
and if the complicity in witchcraft weren't enough then that was the seal on
the contract sending him to hell - had he believed in it for a second. It was
meant to be immoral, the sort of behaviour that was meant to be disgusting and
vile, but in practise... he'd felt like he was dying of Axel's magic, nerves
aflame as he poured out into the red-haired man, but he hadn't died and it had
felt... he hadn't known his body could let him feel so good.
He'd looked at girls in the past, had never thought about boys or the
possibility of liking boys, but he'd never paid much attention to his thoughts
and as such didn't even realise he'd stopped looking after Axel became part of
his life. Might never have realised if Axel hadn't casually mentioned while
passing by him in school that Demyx was very fond of water sprites and the
involuntary mental image had startled him but done little else.
.
Both were careful not to kiss or hold one another unless certain they were
unobserved and not about to get interrupted, but people would have to be blind
and deaf to miss that they were talking now despite maybe a handful of words
having passed between them in previous years. Axel's pretence of being a
normal, ordinary villager had been so damned convincing despite the markings;
even in conversation he could switch topics from anything contentious to
perfectly innocent nonsense with a flick of the tongue. Thankfully, it was only
Roxas' uncle who thought there was anything more sinister than a new friendship
developing between them so as long as he kept silent on that front and stayed
out of Axel's way as much as possible when his uncle was around, they were left
alone for the most part. Even if that hadn't been the case, few in the village
stayed up much after night fell, allowing them near free reign in the darkness.
Demyx seemed to prefer living his own, fairly carefree life, enjoyed the
daylight openly and was blatant in his blasphemies against nature, but Axel and
Roxas made do with the night for the most part. Axel didn't seem to mind, had
apparently been practising his fire magic late into the night for years now,
and that certainly explained the pale skin further than his red hair did given
that his mother had been auburn-haired with ruddy skin according to
description, god rest her soul. Roxas liked to tease that Axel was pale enough
now that he'd never get colour even if he wanted to as the sun's attempts to
darken him would just be reflected away. And it wasn't as if the nights were
short enough to leave them both looking sleepless in school; the sun seemed a
lazy thing at this time of year, barely reaching halfway up the sky before
beginning to descend again. Strangely enough, he missed it even if lengthy days
would have meant less time spent with Axel; as Axel felt at home with fire,
Roxas felt safe in daylight, wished the moon could be brighter or flames burn
fiercer to mimic the sun's effects better.
Even though he wasn't able to join in, Roxas still loved to watch Axel work his
magic; more so when Axel taught him how to climb the trees despite their
surfaces and fragile lower branches not lending themselves to the task, as it
allowed him to see over the wall of flames into the clearing. The flames
themselves made little sense to him, the way they felt real if he got too
close, certainly looked real, but didn't burn the trees or ground of the
clearing - almost like a human-specific illusion - but he allowed himself to be
mystified. Axel seemed to be able to entirely change his weight as he pleased,
landing heavily some of the time, dancing light as air at others, and he truly
looked like something wild. And to think, he'd never been interested in other
people, not really, before Axel; hadn't even found Demyx interesting because
he'd thought the rumours were just rumours. Magic made the two of them wild and
different and natural somehow despite the impossibility of what they did; it
seemed to bring them to life in a way no one without magic could experience.
Once he asked Axel why he never asked for privacy in his craft, why Axel didn't
seem to mind being vulnerable like this around him - and it did make him more
vulnerable than when they were naked together because that was physical
vulnerability and this was something else - and Axel had just laughed and said,
"Because I burn better when you're around."
He hadn't noticed, didn't know if Axel had made that up to make him feel
better, but be it a lie or not, it was appreciated.
.
Under normal circumstances Roxas would never visit the tavern, but Axel had
wanted a drink and Roxas was happy to accompany him as long as he wasn't
expected to do much drinking himself and they sat in a corner where he wasn't
going to be seen should his uncle pass by. It still mystified him that his
uncle had such a distaste for alcohol; disliking the taste he understood but
calling it amoral didn't fit with preaching about a man who turned water into
wine.
"Mm, I needed that," Axel half-gasped after downing a fair amount of his pint
in a matter of seconds, drinking it like a man fresh out of the desert. "Don't
like drinking on my own or I'd've had one sooner."
Roxas smiled but said nothing, looking around at the faces in the pub,
surprising himself with how many people he could name. Only a few escaped his
memory but they tended to be those who he'd never seen in church. "You like
this?"
"Other people can be interesting," Axel replied, one hand lazily gripping his
pint while the other tapped rhythmically on the table. "It's not worth the
effort, figuring people out, not most of the time. But you learn fun things
just watching or listening."
"Like?"
"Well, like there's apparently a 'proper' witch hunt passing through soon,"
Axel began. "Overheard Luxord saying something about a farmer in Nascholme
getting torched because his crops were 'unnaturally' good and he'd never grown
a beard."
Roxas found himself laughing even though he knew he shouldn't, knew that you
weren't ever meant to laugh at someone else's death. "You'd be in trouble,
then. Besides, that's not really learning anything, that's just listening in on
the news."
"Fine! Want to test me?" Axel looked over in one corner and Roxas followed his
gaze for a moment before it returned to him. "Saw who I was looking at?"
"Yes, Lexaeus, why?"
"Well, our silent hero blacksmith," Axel began, eyes flicking up nervously
every so often as if he was anxious of being caught talking; not surprising
given Lexaeus was slightly better built than the average horse. "Has an
interesting hobby outside of his craft."
Roxas brightened up for a moment before feeling a sudden rush of disbelief.
"You're lying. He's not a witch."
"Better than that," Axel replied with a grin, watching the entrance eagerly for
a minute until the almost comically diminutive figure of the records keeper
entered. "And here's the hobby."
Full credit to Axel for knowing Zexion's schedule - not that there was any
surprise in someone who had to be as fixated on details as a records keeper
having a schedule - but still, that didn't guarantee anything, and certainly
not what Axel was insinuating. "No."
"Watch. Not too closely, just - they'll sit and Zexion'll talk at him through
the last of his regular three pints, and then they'll head back to one or the
other's house and make interesting noises."
"Now I know you're lying."
Axel raised one eyebrow. "He's had two already, count the glasses. This is his
last."
Roxas figured he could sit through idly glancing at Lexaeus' third pint to
prove a point, even if it did mean trying not to be amused by the fact that
'talk at him' was a cruel but very accurate way of describing Zexion's
conversation technique. It wasn't that Lexaeus looked uninterested, just that
the blacksmith was never known for being verbose and seemed all the quieter in
comparison with his odd choice of drinking partner.
The third pint disappeared and Roxas watched Lexaeus get up, waited for him to
head to the bar again. Except that, of course, he didn't. He headed out.
Followed a few brief moments later by Zexion.
Axel finished the last of his own pint, leant in close again to whisper, "Who
got it wrong?"
"I won't believe it until I see it," Roxas muttered, giving Axel a friendly
smack before he said anything to go with the wicked expression that had
flickered across his face. "I'd best be heading back before I'm late for
dinner."
"Sure. Why don't I go with you, make it a foursome?"
The smack wasn't quite as friendly this time but Axel opted to behave, pulling
his coat back on and leading the way. Roxas did yelp a little on having his own
coat tugged at before he headed out through the door, turned to find the source
of the tug was Luxord, looking fairly amused and a little worse for wear
drinks-wise. "Does your uncle know you're here?"
"Um," Roxas began, hating himself for blushing fiercely in embarrassment. It
wasn't as if there was anything technically wrong in his being there.
"Heh, thought not. Don't worry, I won't tell."
"Thanks," Roxas half-stuttered before heading out hastily, finding Axel playing
very ill advised tricks with his fingers and the oil lamp set outside the
tavern. "Quit that before someone sees you."
"Sure thing," Axel replied, winking and pulling back his oil-slicked fingers,
blowing out the flames before they could do any damage. Roxas didn't care what
Axel claimed about the oil protecting his skin from blistering as long as he
didn't let it heat up, it wasn't a clever trick even if it did look impressive.
Besides, he was hungry.
The fact the route to his house happened to pass by Lexaeus' home was just
coincidence.
***** Chapter 2 *****
Everyone tensed when the black and white clad witch-hunters rode into the
village for the first time, even Demyx toning his behaviour down enough that
the fishermen could pass him off as an idiot who just helped them out once in a
while in exchange for food. It would have been too easy to tease him about the
convincing acting if it weren't for the risk of being overheard, and while the
older ladies of the village - especially the widowed or unmarried - received
the bulk of attention from the hunters, Axel's hair and marks had drawn plenty
of notice.
Even if doing so meant drawing his uncle's anger again Roxas returned to
talking with Axel openly, sitting with him in church, anything to make Axel
look like the perfectly normal if unusual looking friend of the preacher's
nephew. Those men had brought wood and instruments Roxas couldn't imagine uses
for, and he'd be damned before he saw any of those used on Axel; moreover, he'd
seen the men's faces and didn't doubt for a moment that they had been ready to
watch other people burn. Sharp, determined faces, one of them wearing an angry-
looking scar in the shape of a cross that reminded Roxas all too much of the
god in his uncle's books before the message started becoming one of love rather
than punishment.
Playing Axel's friend was easy enough but with night no longer refuge and all
houses open to searches, being unable to touch him was getting harder and the
strain was starting to show in Axel as well, the brief stolen kisses when they
had time to themselves not enough. If it weren't for investigations into
Demyx's odd survival of dunking without floating and two of the older women in
the village who'd never got on accusing each other of consorting with the devil
the men might have moved on in a week or two, but with an actual trial for the
women being prepared they were staying upwards of a month. Even if the
descriptions of the devil going around were getting wilder and more amusing -
one woman insisted he had thick braided hair and sideburns that added to his
dark expressions; the other insisted the hair was sleek and silvered, that the
devil had multiple and varied scars and a penchant for walking on the ceiling -
it was maddening to be left with all this unsatisfied want.
Axel seemed to be suffering equally and Roxas had to duck out of his way more
than the once, nearly giving in despite the risk on one occasion when Axel had
caught him down at the docks and slid arms around his waist for a moment,
pressing up against him from behind before saying "God, I miss how you feel. I
don't burn the same without you."
"Another month," Roxas reminded him. "They can't stay much longer than that, we
can hold out."
"Speak for yourself," Axel huffed, letting Roxas go and kicking the water.
"Demyx needs to flow but he can swim anytime he likes and ease that urge. What
am I meant to do?"
"You have candles, don't you?"
"Not the same thing," Axel replied, scratching his arm and looking thoughtful.
"I can keep sneaking off without you but..."
"Don't get caught if you do," Roxas insisted, glancing around the area before
stealing Axel's hat so he could run his fingers through the vivid red hair
while giving him a slightly more lingering kiss than their more recent ones had
been. "Promise."
"Don't you trust me?" Axel stole the hat back and fixed it in place, grinning
wickedly and taking another quick kiss before heading off again, looking
decidedly perkier than he had been earlier even if he was still missing
something in his step.
.
Roxas could have throttled Axel on turning in the middle of getting dressed
several mornings later and finding his shutters open, the red-haired man
watching with his head resting on folded arms. "Oh that's smart," Roxas hissed
before opening the window wider to let him in, looking around quickly for any
watchers before closing the window and shutters again. "It's still light!"
"Exactly," Axel replied, grinning, before nudging Roxas back towards the bed.
"All evil-doing is a night-time activity, apparently, and the preacher's due in
church."
"As am I! What if someone saw you?" Roxas asked, still furious even though
Axel's grin was going strange things to his stomach and he wasn't exactly
fighting off the hand working on his belt buckle.
"Tell them I'm an evil incubus who makes you do wicked things. They'd deal with
me first and I'd find a way out."
Axel's hands felt even better than he remembered and Roxas backed up enough to
lie down on the bed, letting Axel kneel over him, and now that it was actually
available to him he realised he'd missed this even more than he'd thought. "You
want to burn at the stake?"
Axel grinned. "I always burn. It's being hung that frightens me." Roxas kept
Axel from lowering himself, hooked both legs around the red-haired man's waist.
"Uh?"
"I want to try things your way," Roxas explained, hoping he didn't sound too
hesitant, and Axel frowned slightly as if puzzled before taking the oil he'd
meant for himself and slicking his fingers, lifting Roxas' hips with one hand
and sliding the oiled fingers underneath, pressing one in slowly as if he were
the more nervous of them. It wasn't quite painful - pain came with the second
finger and slow scissoring to open him up - more that it was alien to him. And
then Axel pressed up against him, into him, replacing the fingers and it seemed
too much, that he could never take it all, but Axel seemed to stop and pull
back, easing into him the rest of the way with slow, short thrusts, and time
itself seemed to slow with them as Axel pushed all the way inside him, so
beautiful above him, and Roxas nodded for him to keep going.
It stopped hurting soon enough, or maybe it was just hurting in a different,
better way, but as good as Axel's hands were on him, as good as Axel felt
inside him, it was Axel's expressions and helpless little sounds that were
ruining him. Whispers of "Please," and "Yes" and "Let me", and Roxas didn't
remember saying anything back but he knew he had to bite his lip to stop
himself getting too loud as he came across their chests.
He'd had to kiss Axel towards the end, holding the back of his head to make
sure all his cries were swallowed, but god, it felt so different being on the
receiving end, feeling Axel coming inside him instead of over him, and he was
ready to say something when Axel pressed an arm across his neck and whispered
in his ear, "Struggle, I'm a godless heretic incubus who's seduced you."
Before he could ask anything the bedroom door slammed open, the black and white
clad men barging in followed by his uncle and his fear of them must have looked
convincingly enough like fear of Axel because as soon as they'd hauled Axel off
and dragged him grinning out of the room, they were wrapping him in the
bedsheets and pouring water over him, checking his throat for marks, and the
next thing he knew he was locked in his uncle's library with two of the other
men, a change of clothes, and no clue as to what was to become of himself or
Axel.
.
As it turned out he wouldn't have to look for answers; one person's news in a
village was everyone's news, and it seemed Roxas and Demyx were not the only
ones to have witnessed Axel's fireworks in the forest. Vexen, a relatively
quiet man who spent much of his time looking after the small library while
working on his own writings, had made his own journey into the forest and seen
'unnatural doings'. And, like any good citizen, had commented to the visiting
hunters on what he'd seen.
"A man who practises by cup and flame, shall perish by the fire," announced
their leader, strange amber eyes glinting with something darker than
righteousness as he dragged Axel - who, for all his new bruises and wounds,
still smirked like a madman or immortal in the face of death - into the village
centre and throwing him to the floor along with the chalice and spiked rings.
Much of the village seemed absent despite the excitement but his uncle was
there and Roxas knew, even before he opened his mouth, what was to be said.
Calmly watching the wood for Axel's pyre pile up, his uncle told them of the
other 'unnatural act' inflicted on his nephew before spitting on him and
storming back into the house, heading upstairs to join Roxas at the window for
a fine view of the proceedings.
"I knew he was the devil's the moment I saw that hair but no-one believed it
until now on account of his mother. God only knows what damage he's done over
the years."
Roxas glared up at his uncle, hoping his eyes said everything the bindings and
gag prevented him saying with the rest of his body.
"Watch this, nephew. You'll need to if you're ever to recover from the damage
he did you."
Axel still smiled, even as he was chained to the stake, his wrists looking too
delicate for the links of metal and the paleness of his skin startling against
the dark wood, more so given the broad daylight.
Where in hell was Demyx? He worked with water, couldn't he summon rain to
quench the flames?
Roxas wanted to close his eyes but couldn't, had to watch pitch and oil be
slung over the wood and Axel's clothing, listen to the hunters' oddly scarred
priest given the expected speech about witchcraft and heresy, watch them hold
the torch that would light the pyre as if it were a holy relic, watch it
descend... forget his bonds, forget he'd already struggled until they were too
tight from his struggling, tight enough to hurt, he had to try again. The
straining did nothing but Axel winked at him, making his heart stop, before
looking from the flames licking his feet to the witch hunters and smirking.
"You stupid bastards," Axel laughed loud enough for anyone to hear, and then
had Roxas been able to move he'd have jumped out of his skin because the flames
engulfed Axel all at once and it was the one visual that completely registered
in his mind as a thousand things seemed to happen all at the same time. The
room flashed bright with light he could feel through to his core, light that
left everyone in the room save himself staggering with blindness; the window
smashed; and the one thing he could hear over the roaring flames outside was "I
hope you're Roxas" before he fell up.
There were arms around his waist as he looked down at the burning village and
as he looked it occurred to him that looking down from a great height while
moving with someone, a man, supported by nothing, that wasn't right, that
wasn't, he -
He blacked out and felt himself slip slightly as a tight, gruff voice muttered
expletives in his ear.
.
Axel's face. It was the first thing he noticed. Before the smell of burning,
before realising his gag was gone, before remembering his rescuer had been
flying, he noticed Axel's face. The now-distant flames were still reflected in
his eyes but he was alive, alive, safe and unburnt, and his hands were working
on untying Roxas' bonds. "What -"
Axel laughed wildly before interrupting. "What idiots try and burn a fire mage?
Or, or is it a how? How did Xigbar fly with you? Maybe a where was Demyx?"
Another laugh and he kissed Roxas hard, harder still on lifting him out of the
damned chair into his lap.
"Or why the hell you've got chairs that weigh a ton," came the same gruff voice
that had held him earlier, Xigbar, from nearby, "We're going to be finding
somewhere harmless enough and I'd suggest you move with us if you don't fancy
waiting to be hung by the next lot. Demyx! You done saying goodbye to your
boyfriends?"
Demyx, Roxas say once he was beyond the point of Axel being his whole world,
was stood over with the stunned fishermen and their families, going through
each group with hugs and murmurs of 'thanks'. Xigbar looked impatient, frowning
effectively enough with the one functioning eye through his scars and - oh,
huh, ceilings and scars, looked like he was the old woman's devil after all -
looking at Demyx as though the water-loving man was dessert.
Roxas knew that look, wondered if it explained why a guy he'd never met before
was willing to rescue him and if he should thank Demyx for pulling that favour
now or later, but Axel was kissing him again and his straying thoughts returned
to that path and that oh, god, thank god, Axel was alive and looking at him
with awe on pulling back from the kisses, brushing fingers across Roxas' lips
before standing up shakily, bringing Roxas with him and standing back a little.
"I burnt them," Axel said quietly. As if Roxas hadn't noticed. "Rest of the
village should get out alive, I don't really care, but they're going to be
looking for Xigbar and me, probably until we die. I don't think your uncle's
going to forgive us anytime soon for torching the hunters and half the
buildings, really. I think you and Demyx's be alright if you went with the
fishermen, you've got alibis, I guess." His voice was unsteady, stammering, and
Roxas tilted his head back slightly to watch him finish. "Go with them and
you're probably safe, and the bit of me that worries about you thinks that's a
really good idea."
Roxas nodded and stepped back into Axel's personal space. "And the rest of
you?"
Axel looked at Xigbar walking off towards the forest, picking up bow and quiver
and slinging them over his shoulder on the way, before returning his gaze to
Roxas. "Come with us. With me. It won't be safe but it won't ever be boring."
Axel held his hand out towards Roxas.
"You're certain you want me running with you?" Roxas asked, looking briefly
between Xigbar and the fishermen. "I'd slow you down."
"I burn better around you," Axel replied. "I don't have to pretend to feel.
Come with me and I'll never leave."
Roxas looked at Axel's outstretched hand, considered it for a moment, what the
future could hold.
He took that outstretched hand and ran until his feet were sore.
.
The End
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