Watercolor

By: Miroir du Symphonie

Fandom: Kingdom Hearts

Chapter Rating: PG

Chapter Warnings: None

Pairing: Roxas x Sora

Disclaimer: Sora, Roxas, and all other characters are the property of Square Enix. I just happen to play with them on occasion, and I do claim ownership to the plot.

A/N: This is the first KH fic that I've ever attempted, along with my first time writing yaoi. I've been reading KH forever, and have decided to take a shot at writing one. So, reviews are more than welcome, I'm anxious to see how I did. I hope you enjoy it.

Edit: This chapter has been revised and replaced to fix errors.

Prologue

The glass fogged up around his hand as he placed it on the windowpane. Outside was already dark despite the current afternoon time, and dimmed blue eyes stared back at him—a shadow of his reflection. Through it, little arrows of ice appeared to be falling, falling to the earth and seeking death...

"Mr. Akiyama?"

Sora turned away from the window to find his doctor staring at him, syringe in hand. "Are you ready for your treatment?"

Sora sighed. "Yes, sir."

"Oh, come now, why the long face? After all, this is your last one!" the doctor chatted animatedly as he rolled up Sora's sleeve and began to tap his arm, looking for a vein. Sora looked away, squeezing his eyes shut as the doctor pushed down the plunger, sending the amber-colored coolness into his arm. He felt the familiar dizziness wash over him and he tried his best to focus on the familiar sight of blue crystal eyes to keep him from passing out.

And then, it was over.

"All done!" The doctor chirped as Sora yanked his sleeve back down and grabbed his jacket, scarf, and gloves—all but running out the room. No more visits, no more doctors, no more damn injections...

Making the trip through the hospital, the blaring paleness of the walls and sterile scent of antiseptics made his eyes hurt and his head ache. Doctors and nurses passed him, all dressed in the same poisonous white, none paying the least bit of attention to the small teen walking among them. Pushing open the complex doors with a sigh of relief, he fumbled his way down the steps...and immediately regretted it. The snow blanketing the ground was blinding and he felt the pounding in his head increase as he squinted, trying to locate something.

Blue eyes, blonde hair, a soft tugging on his sleeve and then Sora stumbled into twin arms—kisses were being pressed to his forehead, to his eyes and neck and nose and then to his lips, a surge of welcome passion that conspired with the medicine to make him weak.

"Hey, handsome," a voice purred in his hypersensitive ear, nibbling on his earlobe in that spot. Sora felt his knees tremble. "You wanna come home with me?"

"Roxas...stop..." he pleaded weakly, mustering enough strength to glare at the blonde.

Roxas chuckled, a sound so identically different to his own, but stopped his ministrations long enough to peer worriedly into Sora's eyes, noting the haze that had glazed them over. "Hey, are you okay?"

He answered on autopilot, a bad habit but one he'd found near impossible to break. "I'm fine, Roxie."

"But—"

"Roxas, please." Sora felt a sudden weariness then—a familiar and resonating feeling in his heart due to his treatment—and all he wanted to do was sleep. "Please, just take me home."

Frowning, the blonde ushered Sora into the car, and they began the silent half-hour trip towards home.

Glass, yet again, was the only separation between Sora and the snow. Of course, he wasn't allowed to go on the balcony, in fear that he might jump and plummet the two stories to his death. He couldn't help but giggle at the thought. Adults were so paranoid. As if walking on the railing was remotely dangerous. Silly parents.

What the hell?

Deciding not to question his suddenly inane thoughts, he gave a slight shake of the head and went back to watching the snow through the glass. The house was quiet save for Roxas puttering around upstairs, and their parents were gone. Gloved palms lay flat on the panes, bare fingers tracing random designs in the fog as unwanted memories began to rise to the surface. He closed his eyes as a picture came to mind.

He could remember his first injection like it was yesterday.

They had told him that it would make him feel better, not as sad all the time. And he had let them, laying lethargically against the leather restraints that he had been kicking and screaming against mere minutes ago. He remembered the first kiss that the ice princess had bestowed upon his veins, felt the rush as she went to his brain. Felt the nothingness that came after. The feeling of being puppet-like, being a mere rag doll that anyone could bend to their will.

After attempting to go to school that day and almost getting molested on the way home due to his extreme lucidity—he swallowed, thank God for Roxas—they took him out of school.

And then after that, he had had to listen to Roxas come through the door every day of that dismal October and every month thereafter, eyes shining, lips full of babble about what drama had happened in school that day. Meanwhile, he had been shut up in his room with his tutor, a stuffy old pedophile with a cane that he enjoyed whacking on Sora's desk when he wasn't paying attention.

"Sora, you're thinking too hard."

The spiky brunette was too used to Roxas' random intrusions on his thoughts to bother reacting.

"Can I help you?" he said tonelessly, continuing to idly trace patterns on the glass.

Arms wound up his body and around his shoulders then, noting the tension in them. He could feel Roxas' breath on his neck, could feel his eyes boring into the back of Sora's head as he continued to stare blankly through the doors. "Kitten, what's wrong?"

"I thought I told you not to call me that."

"Sora—" he turned the brunette around his arms, ocean meeting ocean. His eyes were so powerful, so intense, so utterly focused on him that it made the boy want to scream. A tanned hand captured his sickly pale one, holding it as gently as if it were the most fragile porcelain, fingers trying to send a message that he didn't know how to receive. "Don't do this to yourself."

"I don't know what you're talking about."

"Sora, please—"

"Roxas, go away."

Hurt flashed in those eyes, his grip loosening. He knew that he had wounded the blonde, and Sora was disturbed by how...undisturbed he felt by that. He didn't feel guilty, or upset, he just felt a numbing cold. "Sora—"

"I just said—"

Lips came crashing down on his then, the world seemed to drop out from Sora's feet as Roxas poured every ounce of passion he felt for his twin brother into that kiss. He felt the ice princess vanish, as though she had been a mere wisp of wind, felt everything that she had chased away return in a tidal wave of emotion and sound. He barely registered that he was crying bitter tears as the kiss ended and he felt Roxas' lips, like butterfly wings, brushing them away. "I—I'm sorry, Roxas...I'm so sorry—"

"Shhh, kitten. It's okay—" he felt arms encircle his waist and lips on his neck as he continued to sob.

It was not as though this situation was anything new to the two. For the past year, this beautiful disaster was a reoccurring nightmare that only stopped until the next push of the plunger. Somewhere along the way, mere hurt had turned into a deep, shattering ache that left Sora thisclose to flinging himself off the nearest building. Somewhere along the line, the distinction between brother and brother had been melted away, leaving something behind that knew no boundary. They were simply Roxas and Sora, and other than that, they needed no explanation.

"Roxas?"

"Hmm?" A gentle hand wound its way through cinnamon locks.

"Is it over?"

Roxas stiffened.

As much as he wanted to, he couldn't give Sora a straight answer, and they both knew it. The injections might have stopped, but something inside them told them that it was far from over. "I don't know, kitten."

"So lie to me."

Roxas couldn't help but smile sadly at the petulant tone in Sora's voice. It reminded him of when they were younger, before all this crap started, where Sora would pout and widen his baby blues to get what he wanted. Even now, his brother was staring at him with big, sad eyes that tugged on his heartstrings. But he couldn't lie to his lover. He knew better. "You know I can't do that."

There was silence for a few moments after that as the two watched the snow falling outside. "Roxas?"

"Hmm?"

"I—I need..."

There was a note that rang of hesitancy in Sora's voice, and after six months he knew what it meant. Without another word, Roxas scooped his twin up and took him to bed.

Hours later, Roxas pulled out of Sora's heated, sweaty body and lay next to him, panting. The dull after-ache of sex faintly throbbed within the brunette, tiny aftershocks teasing his body like mini orgasms of their own. His limbs trembled in spastic fits, his breathing erratic, his heart racing, his cheeks flushed pink. Sleepily, the blonde put an arm around Sora's waist, drifting off for a nap before their parents came home. He listened to his brother's heartbeat slow into the rhythm of sleep, and as he placed a butterfly's kiss to Roxas' lips, he made a promise to himself.

I've been clinging onto those injections for far too long...I've had this disease for more than two years. And I couldn't walk away, every two weeks the ice fairy would come with her chills, and the relief only lasted until my next liaison with her. I tried to get away, and it was the hardest thing I've ever done in my life. Now, I will do it again, and this time it will be as easy as breathing.