dangerous game, m
just say the word.

They don't love each other. Hell, they don't even like each other – or at least they wouldn't, if they could like things at all. But they play games with each other sometimes, in the lull between catastrophes, because at the heart of things Axel and Larxene are both sadistic fucks and they each love the feeling of watching the other squirm.

It starts in the Castle, a lazy afternoon screw in the hallway outside Zexion's room. This is their first game – Zexion is in there, and they make a competition out of pulling tiny noises from the other – but Axel refuses to lose to Larxene, not to that grinning bitch, and so he bites his tongue at the sting of her teeth at his neck and the burn of her fingernails down his back. In her defense, Larxene is equally silent – biting her knuckles when Axel shoves two fingers into her and biting her wrist when he shoves his cock into her, and then they're fucking against the wall, all nails and teeth and flexing muscles with Zexion only a few feet away.

Larxene wins round one, though, much to Axel's dismay, because with a clever change of angle and a clenching of her muscles she manages to wring a soft hiss out of him along with his orgasm. When she comes, it is in perfect silence.

"A valiant effort," she mocks when she leaves him slumped against the wall, his zipper undone and his pants halfway down. "Better luck next time, maybe."

Next time – oh, next time Axel wins, if only barely. This time he fucks her on a table in the kitchen, and silence isn't their game, not anymore. Now it's pain, and they're vicious, all fingernails and bruises and scratching. Larxene digs her fingers into the hair at the base of Axel's skull and pulls, hard, and Axel practically yowls, a hurt animal's war cry. His hand takes hold of her waist, his thumb pressed into the curve of her hipbone, and he slams her back into the table with every thrust until he knows she'll be bruised in the morning.

"You fuck like a girl," she tells him, wrapping her legs around his waist and squeezing.

"Fucked a lot of girls, have you?"

She leers at him and digs her hails into his shoulder, leaving pinpricks of blood and bright red half-moons. "Wouldn't you like to know."

Axel's victory this round doesn't come until the very end, and to be honest he thinks he's lost again, until Larxene sits up and he sees the quickest flash of surprise and pain on her face. It's only for a moment, but it's enough to send a slow cat-smile creeping over his face.

"Getting old, Larx?" he asks, tucking himself back into his pants and brushing the wrinkles off of his jacket. "Aches and pains?"

"You want to know about pain?" she snarls, and the air crackles dangerously around them. Axel gives her his best shit-eating grin and a jaunty wave.

"Maybe some other time," he says, and escapes before she can incinerate him.

They don't love each other, and they don't even really like each other (details of the soul-not-heart thing aside), but that doesn't stop them from fucking on every available surface until nearly the entire castle has been christened. The tension between them isn't lust so much as it's competition, some twisted, sadistic game that they're playing with each other. And the really frustrating thing is, Axel knows that one day, Larxene is going to walk away from all of it with her hair perfectly arranged and her jacket wrinkle-free, and she's going to leave him with his pants down and his dick hanging out, and that's going to be that. When it comes down to it, Larxene is just … well, she's a bitch, and Axel's good intentions may be few and far between, but at least they're there. Unlike some people he could mention.

Roxas complicates things. It's not that Axel wants to sleep with him – not even close to that. But they're partners. They would be friends if Nobodies were capable of having friends, and the thing about Larxene is that she likes to break things just to see them shatter. It doesn't take long before she's taunting him, and the whole while she's watching Axel over the top of that little blond head, making sure he sees her every move.

Their game that day is endurance, but midway through Larxene starts to laugh. "So enthusiastic today," she says, her voice coiling like ice around Axel's insides. "Thinking of your new toy? Oh, sorry – I forgot. You prefer partner."

Her mockery isn't subtle, but subtle isn't really Larxene's style, and a moment later Axel's hand is at her throat and he's curled over her like he's about to attack. "Don't bring him into this," he says, feeling the fire rush through his veins like a drug, like magic. "Leave him alone."

"Afraid to taint him?" she teases, and that's exactly it, but there's something so condescending in her tone that Axel comes apart. He snarls and shoves her away from him, and just like that, the game is over. It's over, and Larxene has won, and that pisses Axel off to no end, but it's better than the alternative.

The clincher, though? The best part is that this is probably how Larxene wanted it all along.