Posted originally on the Archive_of_Our_Own at https://archiveofourown.org/
works/453316.
  Rating:
      Explicit
  Archive Warning:
      Underage
  Category:
      M/M
  Fandom:
      Kingdom_Hearts
  Relationship:
      Lea/Ventus
  Character:
      Ventus, Lea_(Kingdom_Hearts)
  Additional Tags:
      pyrophilia, Pyromania, handjobs
  Stats:
      Published: 2012-07-07 Words: 1185
****** Pyrophilia ******
by absolutelyCancerous_(cal1brations)
Summary
     The smell of the smoke.
     He's getting off on the fire.
“Lea! Where are wegoing?”
He doesn’t answer you (of course), merely keeps pulling on your wrist as he
leads you through town. Your eyes are drawn to that bag swinging from his right
hand, but you keep your mouth shut—there’s no sense in talking when the other
party refuses to acknowledge you, anyway.
Lea drags you out to clearing near the edge of town, where he finally lets go
of your hand. Curiously, you watch him set the bag down as he sinks to a kneel,
diving in wrist-deep, digging around for a moment, before simply dumping out
the bag, plus flipping out his pockets (of both his pants and his vest) to
empty them out, too.
“Oh, wow!”
You’ve never even seen a firework that wasn’t exploding in the sky, nonetheless
so many of them!
Lea glances at you as you sink down beside him, carefully observing his
collection of smaller firecrackers that are closest to you.
“Cool, right? Isa helped me get them.”
“How did you even manage to get this many? There aren’t going to be any left
for everyone else!” You scold him, jokingly.
Lea just harks out a laugh, plucking a lighter out from inside his sock before
grabbing a chain of firecrackers, standing up fully before he lights the tail
of the fuse, holding it out and away from him and tossing it when the chain
turns to a popping, snapping, crackling mess of smoke, fire and powder. The
noise makes you jump—it’s really loud!—but Lea only laughs, throwing an arm
over your shoulders as he watches the last of the firecracker die down.
“Fireworks are my favorite,” he breezes, sighing in utmost delight. His arm is
still around your shoulders, but you don’t pull away.
Instead, you look at him, see how his eyes seem a few million times brighter at
the sight of the explosives. How he’s grinning so wide, you’re half afraid his
cheeks might split. But he’s happy, and that makes you happy, too, because
Lea’s laughter and smiles are highly contagious and holy crap, when did he get
to setting up another firework?
This one’s a box-type, unlike the loud-ass firecrackers from before. Lea’s
nearly keening as he strolls out a bit farther away from you to set the thing
down, light it, and book it back to your spot, nearly knocking you over in the
process.
But then, it’s literally a fountain of color, white and blue and yellow
shooting up a good ten feet into the air, showering crackling sparks back down
after they hit their peak. Again, you look to Lea, watching his reaction to the
show of fire and smoke and it makes you smile. He reminds you of a kid in a
candy store, trying to drink in every essence of each solitary ember, to get
the full effect of the high he longs for in the rain of sparks.
Lea lights off a few more fountain-like ones (like he’s trying to impress you
or something, hah) and you just keep watching him get more and more riled up.
Hell, sometime near one of the last fireworks, as he stands beside you with
your arms brushing together, you can feel him trembling in euphoria, vibrating
in utter excitement.
You’re not sure why, but he looks kind of…stiff. He takes in a breath, deep and
slow and heavy, and he holds it for a moment. Then, he shudders as he lets it
go, as if it’s some kind of thrill? You don’t see what’s so thrilling about the
smoke from the fireworks, but you do happen to see Lea do the unexpected,
that’s for sure.
For some reason you can’t place, it honestly surprises you when Lea reaches
down to palm at himself through his shorts during his weird breathing-thing. He
never breaks eye contact with the fountain, though, just breathes deeply,
trying to keep quiet—though you don’t know why because he is right next to you.
But, hey, you’re open-minded, (and Lea is kind of distracting you more than
anything else) so when you step close enough to brush your fingers down his
arm, feather-light and teasing, he jumps pretty violently and tries to splutter
out a million stupid reasons about what he’s doing.
“No talking,” you mumble (groan). Lea swallows dryly as you rest your chin over
his shoulder, sliding your fingers down just inside the hem of his pants,
teasing ever so lightly. Lea sighs, huffily, grabbing your hand by the wrist
and plunging it into his pants for you, rolling up into your palm hurriedly
with a small whisper of a noise.
Lea’s very odd, in his current state. He doesn’t gasp out for air, and he
doesn’t make very much noise at all as he ruts into your clumsy hand that tries
to get a grip around him—you could if he would just hold still! Instead, he
takes in deep, deep breaths, as if he’s trying to get as much oxygen into his
system as possible. At first you think he’s just got deep breathing exercises
stuck in his head from taking tips from you on the matter, but in a few
seconds, he’s sighing out high-pitched noises after every inhale, and then you
smell it.
The smoke from the fireworks.
He’s getting off on the fire.
You’re dazed with the realization, stoking him slowly and very out-of-rhythm,
but Lea doesn’t seem to give a crap, because it’s only about half a minute
until he’s rutting roughly into your hand, gripping your wrist harshly and his
toes curl in his shoes as he comes with a hiccup of a gasp, green eyes slamming
open.
After you withdraw your hand from inside his pants (after wiping it on his
shorts, because ew!) you just stand there half-behind Lea, making sure his
knees don’t buckle or anything. He leans back on your shoulder, just a little
bit, and together in stiff silence, you watch the final sparks of the firework
sizzle to the ground and turn into ash.
When it finishes, Lea clears his throat, tugs up his pants to their usual place
on his (very lovely pale) hips before he’s turning around to look at you
directly. You think it’ll be awkward, looking at him after shoving your hand
down his pants, and you just kind of look at the ground for a moment before
sparing him a glance.
“Wanna grab an ice cream?”
Just like that, it’s not awkward. It's perfectly fine; perfectly normal. You
perk up a bit, smile and nod before Lea darts off, claiming the last one to get
there has to pay! Better hurry, Ven!
Lea’s a strange guy, but sometimes, a little strange is what you need.
However, paying for his ice cream is not on your agenda. You quickly sprint
after him, the two of you rough-housing all the way to the vendor’s booth. You
silently note how Lea keeps sniffing at his neckerchief. It'd take an idiot to
not know he's trying to smell the reek of smoke from the fireworks.
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