A/N: More drabble stuff! An LJ-Drabble that was for ... err ... someone. I forget. 3

Disclaim: Squeenixney and Nomura.

There were just certain times where Roxas was not to be an active participant in Sora's actions. It was an unspoken treaty between the himself and the boy whose body he inhabited, still a fragment clouded within his mind.

It was usually when Sora was doing something personal--writing in the journal he had since been maintaining as per his return (likely something Jiminy had discreetly instilled in him), the occasional walks he took on the beach to clear his head and recompose himself, and some of the meetings between his two friends he would shove Roxas away from. Funny. He always sneezed around those.

Bathing was one of those times. As soon as Roxas saw the boy undressing, he retracted deeper into the depths of Sora's mind--as much as it pained him not to watch the inches sun-bronzed skin being unveiled like a grand piece of artwork.

Usually Sora called him back when he was finished.

Usually. Not this time, apparently.

Oh, he still heard his name upon those lips, Sora seeing no reason to speak in his mind or maybe even whisper when he could just as easily call the blonde's name between walls of empty space.

And he came, just as he always did, blinked when he reflected back at the boy who was still covered in suds in a confused manner that bordered on impassiveness. How he managed to look so inexpressive, Sora would never know.

"Is … something wrong?" The once incomplete being asked cautiously as his form materialized to sit on the sink, blinking when his arm brushed the mirror that suddenly registered as slightly … movable.

"No," came the grinned out response that pushed the limits of the bubbles about his chin. When Roxas simply stared at him blankly, he continued: "Just wanted some company."

"Just how long have you been in here?"

"Oh. I dunno. Hour and a half? Two?"

Roxas had that vacant gaze on him again, but Sora was picking up on the small inklings of thought. Why? being first and foremost. But the blonde had to adjust his breathing in the deathly humidity of the bathroom, mirror still fogged up with specks of condensation that dribbled down, and the brunette's skin steamed when it rose up out of the water.

There was hypothesis and confirmation that Sora had used his magic to keep the water hot.

"So, uh … why not … hop in with me?" The steamy youth asked after a few moments of awkward silence.

And Roxas couldn't help but blink. "Why would you want me to do that?"

"I told you I wanted company."

"In the tub?"

"You don't have to sound so skeptical. There's room for two!" And, indeed, there was. But Roxas wasn't taking the bait.

Sora wondered if he could just … imagine Roxas into nudity? He was a part of him and lived in his mi--

"Nice try," came the chide, the more stoic of the two apparently having picked up on those thoughts. Honestly, he never knew Sora to be such a … pervert. Then again, he was hitting his more … hormonal years, he supposed.

"Ahh, c'mon, Roxas! We could play with Mr. Quackums." There were obviously satirical connotations to the statement as the youth squeaked the yellow rubber … toy.

"That leaves me very much inclined to disregard your offer completely."

"You were really thinking about it?!"

Busted. Damn.

The muscles in his jaw tightened as he followed the will of the Somebody, quickly throwing his clothes off with no anxiety and sinking into the hot water with a sigh.

A relaxed sigh, at that. One that was shoved out of his lungs when the light dweller practically pounced him, teasingly squeaking the bath toy in his face with a--… was that a smirk? Oh, he was just loving this.

"If the tub's big enough for two, why are you practically sitting on me?"

"…I want to?"

"Why?"

"Roxas, I--"

He was cut off by abrupt lips on his own, stunned into silence, staring blankly at the closed eyelids before him, the thick eyelashes just bristled with droplets of water. Was it possible that Roxas had picked up on his thoughts and somehow been able to react to them before he even finished his sentence? Or, the King forbid, had he been listening to those private talks he had with his best friends?

No. Somewhere, he knew it. Roxas felt the same about him.

There was no more need for words. The blonde scooped up his Other's thighs and repositioned him gently, knowing the water would provide everything he needed.

Sora's fingers clenched (sending the rubber duck in his head into a shriek) as his companion's heat poured into him, his breath suddenly freezing--or was it burning?--in his lungs. Only when he was noticeably soothed by the rain of kisses on his already moist skin did the flaxen male begin to move.

Shallow and slow at first, trailing a line of kisses down his throat as Sora arched his back and rose his head back a little to make the pain more bearable--but he was the infamous Keybearer! He could handle a little pain.

There were a few more clenches of that damned squeaking toy before the rubber slipped from his fingers and collapsed to the floor.