Death’s warm embrace was never able to compare to that of Sora’s. AU, Incest, Death, Suicide. R, just to be safe.
Disclaimer- I don’t own Sora or Roxas, but I want to real bad….
It hurt. It hurt so bad; but he couldn’t stop. One slash right after the other until his hands were bloodless and limp and he lay on the tiled floor, just wallowing in his disgust and pain and pure guilt for his own uncontrollable emotions.
He couldn’t help it. When they were younger, he had no issues touching him or hugging him or kissing him, but as they grew older, he knew something wasn’t right. It wasn’t right to blush when your brother kissed you. It wasn’t right to feel that heat pool in his stomach when they brushed sensually. He knew it wasn’t right to be jealous when anyone else touched him or kissed him or loved him or played with him or do every goddamn thing he wanted to do to him!
Everything was an accident, but he couldn’t help loving every damn wrong feeling that passed through his body. He would cherish when he was hugged by the boy and he could feel that place in his jeans where the secrets were hidden. He knew what the secret was, and only he knew. Bath time as children had seen to that as well as dancing in the rain and running around buck naked and changing in the same room. He knew the boy and what he looked like and knew every thing about him.
But the other had no clue.
Wincing, the blonde’s ocean-blue gaze fell to his forearms that bleed feverously. The blood flowed freely from the open slits that dug deep into the skin and veins and muscle. It was disgusting to look at. It was revolting. But it suited the boy. It suited him to a tee.
He was a repulsive, vile, hideous boy. Everything about him screamed monster. Now he was just as ugly on the outside as he was in.
Breath was getting harder to catch. His heart raced to stay alive and stay beating despite that the brain wanted for dearly. The organ punched through his chest and it hurt. He wanted to grasp his shirt and hold it, but his arms were useless by his sides. His fingers couldn’t even twitch let alone clutch.
It was starting to get cold. He wondered if the temperature fell or if this was the beginning of the end. Why was it taking so goddamn long for it to finish? All he wanted was—wait, what was that?
A soft, distant voice called from somewhere else in the house.
“I’m home!” No! He wasn’t supposed to be home for another couple of hours! He couldn’t be here! No, no, no!
His awkward breath quickened as he glanced at the door. It was unlocked. How could he be so stupid? With difficulty, he propped himself on his elbows only to fall back onto the slippery floor. So much blood….
“Roxas, you home?”
He could pretend not to be home. He would just have to stay silent until his time has passed. Yes, the boy would never find him here. It would be too painful for the both of them.
His body gasped for breath now while his mind tried to stop its function. His body wanted him to live on, but he was destined to stop himself and make it was painful as possible. That was his punishment, though it wasn’t nearly enough. Desiring that boy wasn’t right, not at all.
Listening to the sound of his own breathing and the movement downstairs and around the house, Roxas smiled sadly. He wished he could see him one last time. At least say a decent goodbye. That would hurt him too much. The other didn’t deserve the farewell he had in mind.
He heard footsteps coming up the staircase. His vision was getting blurry by the moment. Bitter cold swept through his body and his skin didn’t even raise goose bumps. Good, it knew it wasn’t worth it. It knew to stop working and just let it die already.
There was a sound of the handle jiggling. Roxas turned his head slowly to see the doorknob turning. “No,” he breathed. He wanted to call out saying he was in there. Taking a bath, taking a shit, doing anything other then dying! The door swung open and the item of his affection was there, looking at him. He closed his eyes and warm tears bubbled to the corner. He was caught. He was caught. He was caught.
“R-Roxas…?” The voice was unsteady. He didn’t answer that cherubic voice. He didn’t stay anything. He didn’t want to say how or why he was like this.
Sneakers squeaked against the hot blood and a pair of knees narrowly missed the blonde-boy’s ear. Arms captured the wilted boy and held him against his chest. Even with the blood draining from his body, Roxas still found it easy to blush at the boy. Looking up into those sky-blue, teary eyes it broke his frantic heart. He knew it was painful for the other to watch his twin suffer and die. It might have been easier if he found him dead.
“Why? Why did you do this, Roxas?” He found a head buried into his neck and Roxas sighed, content. He could die happy and he was going to. Sora worried for him. His brother, his love, his desire was sad he was dying.
He shook his head. Never, not even with his last breath, would he tell the boy why he did this.
“Please,” a sob racked the stronger body and held the fragile body closer, tighter. “Please tell me Roxas! Why did you…” a wail escaped the younger twin. Hot tears trailed down Roxas’s own face with shame and joy.
Roxas closed his eyes. Dying in his brother’s arms wouldn’t be as bad as he thought it would be. Yes, his heart was broken because of the grief he caused his brother, but he was jovial at the very notion that Sora loved him.
“Goodbye,” he whispered, shuttering the words. “I love you.”
Sora hitched and faced him, slapping his face a little, “No, st-stay with me, pl-please! I-I’ll g-get help ju-just d-don’t leave me!”
Of course, he would love to have stayed with the boy. Now and forever. He head rolled limply in Sora’s arms as he shook him. Roxas blinked. Darkness still hasn’t won him yet. He looked at the lips of his brother. One last selfish request. Would that hurt too much?
“Kiss me,” he sighed, almost unsure Sora could even hear him. But he did and those tear-stained sky eyes stared at him with confused. “Kiss me like you kissed Kairi.”
The brunette understood and he didn’t even give off the air that he was appalled. Instead, without hesitation, soft, full lips were pressed against pale, chalky, dead lips.
A last sigh escaped through the lips and brushed against the living ones and darkness finally engulfed the older twin.
Death’s warm embrace was never able to compare to that of Sora’s.