[FIC] Kingdom Hearts
Title: N/A
Fandom: Kingdom Hearts
Pairing: Sora/Riku
Rating: R
Word Count: 671 words



Riku's lips are cold and chapped and still sort of grainy from when he almost fainted into the sand earlier. As far as first kisses go, Sora vaguely thinks that this one shouldn't be that spectacular. But the weird thing is that it is. Even though they have no idea where they are and sand is cold, wet, and soaking through his pants--it's enough to take his breath breath away. He thinks it might be the look in Riku's eyes, the slight widening of disbelief replaced by something that says 'finally--what took you so long, moron?'

It's the idea that Riku's still able to make fun of him, even in a situation like this, that makes him press nearer, tangling his hands in pale hair grown long and shaggy. The inside of his mouth is warm, and he makes a kind of strangled noise in his throat when Sora slips his tongue between his lips, so he does it again. Then Riku's doing the same, and he can taste blood from someone's split lip, but that just makes it more real. Sora feels electric, giddy, the same sensation of connection that he felt when Riku's hands joined his on the Keyblade pulsing through him in waves.

Sora's half in Riku's lap by this point, so when arms that are a lot more muscular than he remembers them being wrap around him and in twisting to get closer he sort of throws them off-balance, they end up with Riku lying on his back in the sand with Sora above him. The change in position is nice--it means Sora can brace his knees on either side of Riku's hips and stretch his body out along Riku's and sort of press down and oh. That draws a gasp from both of them, and suddenly it's like Riku's hands are everywhere, sliding under his jacket and over his skin. Sora's pretty sure he makes an embarrassing sort of whimper when those hands dip just under the waistband of the back of his pants, but Riku's laugh is muffled by the renewed assault on his mouth.

It's right about now that Sora remembers that, oh yeah, he has hands that could be doing something other than clutching at Riku's hair, too. He brings one hand loose to tug at the zipper of Riku's shirt, only breaking the kiss when he has to sit up and hold the fabric steady because the darn thing's caught. It finally comes free and the shirt falls open, revealing too-pale skin mottled with purpling bruises from the earlier fight. Sora hisses in sympathy, briefly catching Riku's eyes in apology for not being fast enough, strong enough to keep him from getting hurt, but he's quickly distracted by the leanly muscled stomach under his hands. Giving in to the weird urge he's had ever since Riku traded in his Organization coat for the half-unzipped shirt, he leans over and licks a line up from navel to collarbone. He's rewarded with the salty taste of sweat and something he thinks might be darkness, and the way Riku stiffens under him. The startled gasp of "Sora," his name groaned out between gritted teeth makes him shudder all over in a good way. They're both hard, and even Sora, who sort of went through puberty while asleep, knows what to do about that--he kind of experimentally slides one of his thighs between Riku's and rubs. The look on Riku's face--mouth open, panting, eyes wide--makes all this so worth it, and Sora has just enough time to think that he's finally won at something before Riku's doing a whole lot more than being still under him and all coherent thought flees.

Afterwards, they're sweaty and sticky and even more sore than before, but they just can't seem to care. Sora grins, nestling closer in Riku's arms, and thinks that as far as journey's ends go, this one is pretty darn good.