Author: SarcasticIrony
Warning: Attempted Suicide, Incest.
FF.Net Link: Sora's Warm Embrace
Pairings: RoxasxSora
Rating: PG-13
Word Count: 3547
Sora's Warm Embrace
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 feverishly. 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 s**t, 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.
Sora’s warm embrace was never able to compare to that of Death’s.
- - -
He never expected the after-life to be this cold. Above him was a bright, annoying light and he couldn’t help but shiver and shake and quiver with the cold. Someone was calling his name, but he ignored it, focusing on the cold.
Why was it so goddamn cold? Wasn’t hell supposed to be hot? The phrase went “hot as hell” which probably meant something, but he couldn’t take this chill. Maybe hell was made cold just for him. His personal hell was cold. He hated the cold, he always had. He told everyone he’s rather die in fire than in ice.
The bright light above him blinded him and fuzzy images swam before him. There were silhouettes that were discernible. One looked like his beloved brother.
He closed his heavy eyes once more, flinching away from the image. The devil was taunting him. Something was thrown over him and he felt warmth encase him. He stopped shivering almost instantly. Maybe it was his Angel that gave him the comforting warmth. His Angel was still with him in this freezing hell? He must have done something good in his life.
Darkness engulfed him once more as exhaustion covered him like a blanket.
Something hurt. Something pierced into his skin and muscle and it caused him to awaken with a start. Blinking into the dim light, he could make out shapes and his vision cleared. Above was a dark ceiling with dots and a fluorescent light that was turned off at the moment. There was a light that shone through a window seen through his peripheral vision. It was dark out there, too, but the light was from below the window somewhere outside.
The pain was coming from the inside of his right elbow and his left hand. He rolled his head limply to see what was stuck in his hand to see needles all pierced and taped into and to his soft flesh. A wrap was tied tightly around his forearm that spirals up to his elbow. Both of his forearms ached. He rolled his head to the left to see the inside of his elbow was in the same condition as his hand as well as his arm.
Inhaling through his nose, cold, clean air reached his lungs. Sound was starting to come back. There was a loud annoying beeping somewhere around his head and another sound he couldn’t quite place. Roxas listened harder, and heard dripping. He tuned that out as well as the beeping and heard a soft, soothing sound.
He closed his eyes, ready to fall asleep to the sound only to realize it was someone breathing. Roxas searched the room once more for the source and found a tuff of brown hair near his left arm. How did he miss it with the dark hair contrasting the white sheets?
Something stopped his heart from racing at the site of the familiar spikes. Lifting his heavy arm, he placed his flaccid hand on the tuff, smiling softly at the soft hair.
Stirring and groaning, a voice emitted, complaining he was tired. Roxas wanted to talk to him, but he didn’t think his voice worked anymore.
Fingers clenched the brown hair comfortingly and ruffled the hair slowly. He didn’t move as fast as he would have liked to. His movements her sluggish and he found it irritating. The head moved and sky-eyes punctured him. They stared at each other for a long time before an understanding hit the weary teen.
“Roxas…?” Sora slurred. Roxas nodded. “You’re awake…?” Roxas nodded again.
His hand slid off the head as Sora began to sit up. Roxas watched the fluid movements and the tan hand that flew up to rub one of those light eyes. A light blush crept to his cheeks as he watched his brother waking up from a deep slumber.
Then everything came back to him and he frowned. He didn’t succeed. He failed. He was in a hospital.
He lived.
He began to feel light-headed and his head started spinning. It was hard to breathe. He shouldn’t be here. He should be in hell or in a coffin somewhere, people mourning his death and his brother refusing to care about him anymore.
“Roxas?” his voice was called by the angel. He looked over at him, sweating out of fear. “Are you okay?”
He couldn’t tell him the truth… he had to lie…. It was so hard to lie! Roxas shook his head, causing himself to become dizzy. He tried to bring his hand to his mouth, but the needle under his skin poked his muscle. Damn, that hurt! Instead, his right hand flew to his left arm as he cringed at the pain.
Hands breezed over him, comforting him. The warm, gentle hands seemed to know where it would hurt and avoided all of those places. The tender voice shushed him as he began to weep. It was a long time before his sobs became supple hiccups.
“Why aren’t I dead?” he found himself whispering, questioning. “Why aren’t I in a grave, rotting?”
There was no answer. Instead, a loud beep was pressing against his eardrum. Light poured in from a doorway and a kind young woman with brown hair and blue eyes entered with a clipboard.
“What’s wrong?” she asked in a pleasant voice.
“He won’t calm down, Aeris. Can you help?” Sora’s voice was pleading, strained.
“I can let him rest, I suppose… but he was doing fantastic with natural sleep—”
“Please, just get him to sleep. I’m scared for him….”
“Alright.”
Roxas refused to watch the conversation that happened between them. Sora thought he was sick. Sora didn’t trust him when he was awake. The woman named Aeris walked over to his right side and injected something into the clear liquid that ran through a tube to his arm. Instantly, it started to get cold and he was shivering again as he felt drowsy and unwell. Sora requested a blanket and one was thrown over him, stopping the trembling at once.
He looked at the nurse that was next to him, smiling. Before his heavy lids drooped shut, he read the name “Dr. Aeris Gainsborough” on the name tag that hung on her white coat.
Awakening from the artificial sleep brought natural exhaustion to him. Roxas decided he was against it after spending two weeks in the hospital, completely aware of all of his surroundings. They said with some physical therapy and a month of healing, he could go home. He wondered why they didn’t send him to a psychiatric ward instead.
Sora spent all the time he could with Roxas. It wasn’t as often as the twin said he would like it to have been, but Sora was there and didn’t leave until either his mother of father forced him. During his visits, it was mostly silence, chatting with Dr. Gainsborough (who insisted on being called by her first name), or one sided conversations on Sora’s part. The boy rambled on like a drama club monologue.
Sora would talk about his friends, Riku and Tidus, and about Roxas’s own friends and how they bitched about not being able to see him (they only allowed family to see him) and how much they missed him. Sora chatter about how Axel and Demyx want their leading singer back in their band.
Roxas was silence, only grunting or nodding in certain places. He listened, interested, but didn’t want to open his mouth again in case he spilled sorrow all over Sora’s happiness.
It was as if they never kissed. It was as if it were an accident. It wasn’t like he tried to kill himself or anything….
Saturday night, Aeris came in and checked up on Roxas’s vitals. He was doing remarkably well. His body was healing very nicely. It was happy to be alive.
Sora cheered and grinned. He said in the morning, they would eat cake to celebrate. Roxas wasn’t feeling well enough to eat before bed. Aeris told them she was going home to her husband, Zak, and their son, Cloud. If they needed anything, Dr. Minnie Mouse was in.
They wouldn’t need anything, Roxas said, bringing that happy façade he always had around the wonderful doctor. They would be fine for the night.
After they were sure she had left the room, Roxas fell against the pillow, looking miserable as ever. The twins were silent. Roxas felt the boy’s banter beginning.
“I told them it was an accident.” Roxas’s gaze shot towards his love. “I told them you fell with a vase and got a concussion. That’s why your arms and hands were all messed up. But…” Sora was refusing to look at him. The blond was stunned at what he was hearing. “I had to do some things to make it look convincing. I’m sorry, Roxas.” Tears glistened in those cyan eyes.
“I… I did some bad things. I hit your head against the toilet and smashed a vase. I had to put… glass in you cuts. I… I still feel the blood against my flesh and it grosses me out and the inside was…” A sob cracked from Sora’s open mouth as he covered his face with shaking hands.
Sora staged an accident? Sora allowed himself to hurt his twin brother? Sora, the sweet little, innocent thing made himself deal with blood and gore? Why?
Roxas hadn’t realized he voiced his question until Sora replied to it.
“Because,” the distraught boy gazed at the other, “I didn’t want them to take you away from me.”
His heart beat into life wildly. Blood rushed to his face as he looked into those sincere eyes that shone in the florescent lights. It was getting hard to breath again.
“But…”
“I didn’t tell you, but I broke up with Kairi about two months ago.”
Why was he telling him this? This didn’t make sense… it was so irrelevant.
“It hurt when I was with her, y’know? It hurt a lot. But, I needed a girlfriend. I felt really bad for using her. But, I liked her a while ago, but then it got weird. I kept getting these weird thoughts and I wanted to distract myself from them.” Sora placed a hand stressfully on his forehead, rubbing the skin there. His face was flushing. “But, after a while, I realized it wasn’t helping. I always went back to those strange thoughts when we hugged or kissed or held hands or if we were tender in any way towards each other. I mean, I liked her, but not like that. We’re still good friends and all. But, I accepted everything that was running through my head. I decided I didn’t care about them.”
“What are you getting at, Sora?” Roxas asked, wanting to know. This was annoying the hell out of him. He didn’t want to hear about Kairi, he wanted to know why his little brother did that to himself! Why would he traumatize himself by hurting his brother?!
“Why did you do that to yourself, Roxas?”
Roxas clenched his hand only to regret it. He allowed his pained muscles to tense instead of furl. He wasn’t going to tell anyone his deepest darkest secret.
“I asked myself that everyday. I asked you that every time I saw you; I asked your sleeping body and I never got an answer. So, I thought about what you asked me. You wanted me to kiss you. You were disgusted with yourself. You couldn’t control it. I understand Roxas.”
Now, he was confused. Did Sora know what he was thinking or was he thinking something completely different. He didn’t want to ask in fear he would say something that he didn’t want let out.
“This might sound really egoistical, but I came to a conclusion and I don’t feel so bad about what I’m feeling anymore. In fact, I’m really relieved.”
“What did you come up with?” Roxas whispered.
Sora opened his mouth, as if to speak, but only a strange sound escaped those full lips. He frowned and looked at the older twin with determination. Getting up from the bedside seat, he bent over the ill form of the blond and kissed him full in the lips.