Author's Note: Christmas is a good enough excuse to be sappy, no? ^.^

Merry Christmas, y'all! Hope you are all able to be with your families and have a wonderful time, whatever you're doing. Me, I'm with my family, and tonight we'll be having our traditional Christmas Eve dinner - homemade hamburgers on the grill! 8D

So yeah, Merry Christmas! :D

It was the Eighth Day of Christmas, and after a week of revelry, not a soul – from the lord to the lowest vassal – had wearied one bit of merry-making. Though the fief was small, the castle barely more than a wooden fortress, and the surrounding farmland somewhat poor, the people were blessed with a good lord. Even in lean years, the man believed that Christmas was a time to be generous and jolly. During the Twelve Days of Christmas, each day he hosted a merry hunt or a tournament of some kind, and each night the wassailers were welcome at the Great Hall. A Christmas feast was laid each night – wild boar and deer and goose killed that day in the forest, mincemeat pies, puddings galore, mulled wine and ale in abundance. And after the feast there was entertainment – performances by the best minstrels and fools, music and dancing late into the night, and toasts to the health of the generous lord almost until dawn.

The Great Hall was hung with holly in abundance, transformed with the greenery of Yuletide. Tonight, like the seven nights prior, the music of wassailing from the courtyard heralded the beginning of the feast. After the first song concluded, the lord's son, Axel, stepped to the door to perform his role. Affecting ignorance, he exclaimed, "Why, what a fair company we have here! Would these merry gentlemen care to come in and sing for my illustrious father?"

A large, red-faced man in the front of the group shouted back, "We will sing until he asks us in, and sing again until our mouths are stuffed to silence us!"

Axel replied by throwing the door open. "Then come in and sing quickly, for we've quite a feast ready to silence you!"

Thus began another night's celebration. The lord presided at the table, Axel at his right hand as his son and heir. The future ruler of the fief was of his father's mind when it came to Christmas – whatever struggles the year brought, liberality at Christmastide made the hardships bearable for another year. The people were pleased, for they were confident in their hope that Axel would prove as good a ruler as his father one day. Indeed, the young man seemed every bit as delighted by the Christmas revelries as his father, and was often the first and loudest to call for some new entertainment or more meat upon the table.

It would seem to any observer that Axel's attention was quite devoted to the feasting and entertainment. If this was not quite true, none took note of it. Not even Axel's father caught the direction those bright green eyes often wandered. None of Axel's companions detected his distraction, for the young nobles and sons of merchants were themselves fully occupied with the ladies in attendance, from the fair and eligible maidens to the plump, pretty servant girls. Their eyes were only on the skirts.

Axel's eyes betrayed nothing, but again and again they found a certain servant and lingered upon him. Whenever the boy was in the hall, Axel was aware of his location. Wherever the blond head wandered, serving the revelers or taking something back to the kitchen, the lord's son followed his movements from the corner of his eye. His manner, however, seemed entirely carefree – there had been time to practice the art of watching without appearing to.

Roxas had been a servant in the lord's house for a little more than a year. The previous year, the king had called upon every feudal lord as he went to war, driving back a foreign invasion from his shores. Axel had gone to war with his father's men. In a few months, they had driven the invaders back. The provisions that had been abandoned as the foreigners fled made a small collection of loot, and there had been many captives taken from the enemy camp as well. The king had divided the provisions and people among his lords, after taking the first share. Axel had led his men back to their homes, a golden-haired foreign boy among his handful of captives.

The boy, Roxas, had been a page or a servant of some kind in the enemy camp, and now he served in the lord's hall instead. Axel had not seen much of the boy at first, and it was a long time before he heard the boy's voice, for Roxas only spoke his own language with the other foreign servants. However, in time he began to acquire a few words in the language of his new home, and eventually he was given the duty of seeing to the fire in the lord's chambers – and Axel's.

Axel did not know when he had started to take note of the boy. It had been so gradual, he could not think of a time when he first looked with eyes that saw something other than a skinny youth. He could, however, remember the moment he had realized his lack of interest in the fairer sex.

His companions liked carousing at taverns, and dallying with tavern wenches came quite naturally to them. Axel never wondered, at first, why his flirtations always ended well short of a private tryst, a roll in the hay, or a tumble in a bed upstairs. It was a long time before he took note that his companions were all boasting of many conquests and even comparing stories when more than one of them had seduced the same maid, while Axel laughed at their banter yet had no stories of his own to offer.

When he realized it, he took the next girl he flirted with to bed.

It was nothing like what his friends described.

He was nervous. It was awkward. He didn't know what to do with his hands. The strange body with its unfamiliar features seemed too soft, too round and curvy. He was almost frightened to touch the girl's breasts. They were too big and he didn't know what he should do with them. Then there was the place between her legs. Axel had not been prepared for that sight at all, and he had to look away quickly – he had almost gone soft. He managed to enter the wench, but only without looking. At least it felt good to be inside, good enough that he was able to finish, anyway.

Afterward, Axel could only guess that something hadn't been right about that. The wench had seemed distinctly unimpressed, though she hadn't said anything, surely in an effort to not offend the lord's son. Axel, for his part, wished that he had someone who could explain these matters to him, but he dared not confide in any of his friends. After some contemplation, he decided that the excessive soft curves had probably been not to his taste, and perhaps he would find it better with another sort of woman. All his friends had their preferences, after all. It was probably just a problem with the woman he'd chosen.

It was some time before Axel took another, however, because he could not seem to find a woman who attracted him enough that he dared to hope her bed would be more pleasant. In the end, it was when he went to war for the king. He found a girl in camp who was very slight and so slender that indeed she looked half-starved. He brought her to his tent one night.

The experience was only a little better.

Even though she was as skinny as a reed, she still felt too soft, too fragile. He wasn't surprised, this time, by the female features, but he still found it necessary to turn his eyes away from what he was doing. In the end, it was still a far cry from what he had heard. When she was gone and Axel was alone in his tent again, he paced the small space, feeling somewhat sick, and struggled to find a reason for this second failure.

Perhaps it was only the unfamiliarity. Perhaps the two women had been very bad, and he couldn't know this because he hadn't found a good experience for comparison yet. Perhaps it was just…women. They were too soft. He feared hurting them, and he disliked the yielding quality of their flesh.

But then, will it be…all women?

Axel never answered the question. The solution seemed to be more trial and error, and the idea of that made him feel sick all over again, so he delayed any resolution. And since that time, he had simply tried to pretend that there was no problem. He kept busy with hunting and sport and the lessons of his tutors, preparing for ruling the fief someday.

And at some point, he began to notice Roxas. Stray thoughts whispered into his mind. He is small and thin, but looks quite sturdy. If a woman were stronger, like him, I should be less afraid of hurting her. His chest would be flat, perhaps even firm. His scent…I wonder what his scent would be like?

Since the weather had turned cold this year, forcing everyone to spend less time outdoors, Axel's notice of the servant boy had become an almost constant occurrence. And from the moment he had first watched the boy tend his fire and thought to himself, He is beautiful, Axel had known instinctively that he must not let anyone take note that he was watching Roxas.

Apart from the privacy of his chambers, where there would often be none to observe how he looked at the servant, Axel had quickly become a master of affecting cheerful indifference, keeping his demeanor unchanged even when his heart clutched in response to an unexpected appearance of the boy. Even among many people – as he had been every day of Christmas so far – Axel knew he had not been discovered.

Except, perhaps, by one person.

When Roxas filled a goblet further down the long table – leaning, for a moment, into the brighter light cast by the tapers placed among the dishes – and Axel's eyes flitted a moment over strong, fair features and strangely light-colored hair…

…In the moment Roxas straightened and stepped back, blue eyes looked up, straight into Axel's. Their gazes locked for barely a breath, then it was over.

It had happened a hundred times or more, and it still shocked and thrilled Axel deep in his core just as much as the first time.

So Roxas knew. He was sure of it. How could Roxas not know? The fact that Roxas caught him so often could not be mere chance. Still, a more timid man would have been riddled with doubts. Who could know what Roxas thought of these simple glances? Indeed, he had never spoken more than a handful of words to Roxas, and these were only orders silently obeyed. They were perfect strangers to each other.

None of it mattered.

The whole of the white, wintery world was in high spirits for the season. Over seven days of revelry, Axel had stolen more glances than a month usually afforded. And for seven nights of merrymaking, all Axel's wine-elated thoughts and feelings had been occupied by the fascination of those eyes and the building desire to do something about it. Anything.

The Eighth Day of Christmas grew late. The night had long since fallen and the wassailers had long since sung and been welcomed the feast. The whole company of his father's court had set upon the laden table and done fair work at lightening the dishes that the servants would carry back to the kitchen. Then the entertainments had begun, and the dancing had carried them all away for hours. The ale and mulled wine kept flowing through the night, and the celebration lasted until an hour or two before dawn. Then, with a loud, rousing toast to the founder of the feast, the lord was bid good-night as he departed for his chambers. Many of the guests bedded down right there in the hall, until the ground was as covered with bodies as it was with rushes. Slowly, the entire castle fell into silence, save for a few soft footfalls as the lowest of the servants finished cleaning up, stepping around the guests and scurrying down the narrow halls as quietly as possible.

Upon reaching his chambers, Axel lay down for a few moments, but soon he was rising again, pacing the floor rather than tossing and turning on his bed. The memory of blue eyes was haunting him. They were beautiful, betraying no emotion in that stare, yet all the more alluring for keeping their secret. To know Roxas' mind… He paced again, wondering how to ask. Nay. It is impossible to ask. A conviction became suddenly solid in his hazy thoughts. Take action. It was the only way.

He leaned back against the door, listening for the whisper-quiet footfalls of the servants. The fire in his chambers needed tending, or it would be out by morning. In time…have patience.

It seemed an eternity before he heard soft steps approach and stop before his door. The barest tap came against the heavy wood – a courtesy, in case he was awake, yet not enough to disturb him if he slumbered. Roxas had come to build up the fire.

In one smooth motion, Axel turned, opened the door, and grasped the front of the boy's shirt, pulling him abruptly into the room and shutting the door before anyone should notice. Roxas only gasped, wide-eyed with surprise as he was thrown up against the cold stone wall. Without hesitating for a moment, Axel forced his fingers through soft blond hair and crushed his mouth over the servant boy's.

Hands pressed weakly against his shoulders, but Axel didn't relent. He moved his body against the smaller one, ravishing Roxas' mouth with his tongue. The boy trembled, his resistance weakening. Before Axel felt himself grow starved for air, the youth had already begun to respond to his kiss.

It was all the answer he needed. Winding strong arms around the slender body, Axel pulled Roxas against himself, then turned and strode toward the bed, pushing Roxas back until he stumbled and landed on the soft straw mattress. The next moment, Axel was upon him, drawing heavy blankets over them both, burying them in darkness and warmth as he returned to Roxas, kissing him again with a deeper, smoldering passion this time. His hands, however, still moved with an urgency born of need as they grasped at Roxas' coarse clothing, pulling it clumsily for a moment before finding the best way to get it off. Then…

Skin. His hands – once so awkward and hesitant – spread over the slender, muscled body, adoring the heated skin and the firm flesh, desperate for more, unable to touch Roxas enough. They were both breathing heavily through their kisses, and the heat beneath the blankets was becoming suffocating, but Axel didn't want to break away for air. He wanted to drown in this heat and in the scent of the young man, sweaty and addicting and wonderful. This, at last, was pleasure.

Drunk on the new sensations, Axel's only thought, apart from seeking more of Roxas, was to see his lover utterly overcome with passion. For that purpose, he slipped one hand down between them, further than he had yet touched, and lightly took hold of Roxas' manhood, stroking slowly in a way he highly suspected the young man would enjoy. And he was not wrong. Roxas immediately whimpered, writhing slightly, and the small sound made Axel lightheaded. So far, the loudest sounds had been their breathing. He had not even thought to wonder what Roxas' lovely tenor voice would sound like when melted with desire. Now, it was foremost in his mind. Roughly tugging away his own clothing with his other hand, Axel began to stroke Roxas with more confidence. The effect was everything he had hoped for – bitten-back whimpers of arousal and need that made the fire within him burn even hotter in response, his skin becoming slick with sweat, slipping against Roxas' solid body beneath him.

Curiosity. Axel was almost desperate with the desire to enter this boy and thrust within a warm, tight sheath, but he had no idea if it was even possible with a man. His free hand probed between Roxas' legs, exploring, and the only possibility he found seemed a great deal tighter than a woman's opening. Is it possible to use this place? He wondered, still pressing his fingers against the wrinkled flesh and thrilling as Roxas whimpered again. He was torn between the urge to try and his hesitation, mind scrambling for some sort of guidance…until he remembered a detail told by one of his friends. In seducing a maid, the man had been worried about getting her with child, so he had used this place instead. The priest had upbraided him for a double sin – adultery and an act of perversion – and he'd been given penance to do, but apparently it had worked. And this much, at least, cannot be too different from a woman…

With the few thoughts he could spare for anything other than his agonizing desire for Roxas, Axel's mind scrambled, forming a way of simulating the conditions he remembered with women. With spit-covered fingers, he pushed inside the tight ring, testing the opening, the resistance…the hot grip that made him swallow hard, body shuddering to be inside.

Another strangled whimper as his fingers withdrew. He couldn't take it anymore. Roxas was incredible, irresistible. His body felt firm and strong and perfect as Axel pressed down against him, sliding his hands under the boy's legs. His heart raced with anticipation as he planted a hand beneath each knee and pushed up, spreading the boy open – vulnerable.

For a moment, he waited, listening to the sound of heavy breathing. He couldn't see Roxas' face distinctly in the darkness, and he wanted to be sure the boy wasn't trying to stop him. He pressed himself against Roxas' entrance.

Roxas didn't stop him.

Without a word, Axel pushed forward, deep and hot and unbearable. It was so good inside Roxas, so tight, and a small, involuntary moan escaped his throat when he was in. Thin, suppressed whimpers from the boy answered him, and they continued as he began to move, impatient now for the completion of this wonderful pleasure. With each thrust, a tiny sound in the dark answered him. Groping hands found his shoulders, squeezing and pulling him close, and Axel responded by pushing down more, closer, almost folding the lithe body in half as he drove in faster, grunting with the impact of each pounding thrust. Throbbing heat was building in his body, eager for release, but Axel held himself in check as long as he could.

Pressing downward, he felt his stomach slide against Roxas' arousal in a long stroke, and the boy made a soft, strangled cry as he tensed suddenly and his seed splattered between their bodies.

That was more than enough. Roxas' pleasure thrilled him, and his body pulsed in response, and for a moment Axel knew nothing apart from the crashing ecstasy overwhelming his body. And the feeling that followed – the deep, blissful satisfaction – was an entirely different feeling from the mildly enjoyable feeling of relief, of "thank God's eyes it's over," that he had known before.

Truly, every moment had been so completely unlike his past two experiences that Axel could not think of them as comparable at all. The act was similar, yes, but the feeling was as different as night from day.

And Roxas was still in his bed, clutched in his arms, breathing in gasps just like Axel was, sticky with sweat and pungent seed, warm and alive and comforting. Axel found that, whereas with both girls he had only wanted to be free of their presence as soon as possible, with Roxas he only wanted to stay together. Stay like this. For a little longer. For as long as possible.

He fell asleep in that state of mind, still clinging to the boy. They never spoke a word.

~o~

When Axel awoke, it was already late morning, and his bed was empty. He glanced around the bright room, saw that it was truly vacant, and groaned, rolling back over and pulling the blanket over his head. He wanted to feel annoyed at the servant boy for sneaking out, but of course it only made sense – Roxas could not be missed in his duties. Then, for a moment, his mind entertained the doubt that perhaps the whole night had been a dream. But no – Axel quickly found evidence of the truth, even if his own nakedness had not been enough. Besides, his bed still held a lingering scent not his own – Roxas. Axel buried his face in the blankets and inhaled deeply, the scent feeding his memories of the night before. So that was the act of love. He grinned into his pillow. It was better than I had dared to hope.

With swift, sudden movements, Axel rose from bed. He dressed quickly, eager to be out and about the house on this glorious Ninth Day of Christmas…hoping, perhaps, to catch sight of Roxas. I must remember to give nothing away, he chided himself. When I see him, I mustn't betray our secret. Axel hoped that Roxas would likewise keep up normal appearances. However, his mind was not too deeply troubled by these worries. More than anything, he was eager for that night. For the end of the Ninth Day's feast and a chance to capture Roxas alone and taste again that incredible pleasure together.

Roxas.

However, he did not see Roxas before leaving for the day's hunt with his father and a company of nobles. It was not unusual, but the absence nagged at Axel's mind, and he was distracted and inattentive to the chase he usually enjoyed. All his thoughts were turned toward home and that night's Christmas feast – when he would surely see Roxas at last.

A Day of Christmas had never felt so long.

At last, the cold winter sun set over the snowy fields and forests, the feast was set, and Axel eagerly performed his welcome to the wassailers. He had never been so happy to see the company brought into his father's hall, all stamping feet and rubbing away the cold, full of smiles and merry Christmas greetings. For now that they were here, finally…

From the beginning of the feast, Axel's eyes were searching the servants for Roxas, and it was not long before he found the boy, setting food before a guest further down the table. Axel's heart leapt and his eyes fastened on the youth. He watched Roxas for a moment with an eager, devouring gaze before he remembered that caution was necessary. It was torture to tear his eyes away from the boy, especially since Roxas had not glanced up yet. Axel felt as if he were dying for a glimpse of those eyes, a moment to stare into them and confirm what had passed between them…and confirm that Roxas desired him as much as he longed for more of Roxas. Raise your eyes. Please. Look at me, Roxas…

But Roxas did not.

Through the entire feast, though Axel searched that face a thousand times, never once did Roxas look up and meet his eyes. By the time the lord had been toasted off to his chambers, the mulled wine had lost its flavor and the plum pudding was no longer sweet for Axel, for his heart had grown heavy with dread. A thousand glances before had always been met and returned at least a hundred times, yet tonight it seemed that Roxas refused to look at him. What can this mean? Axel pondered unhappily as he made his way to bed. Is he merely guarding against discovery? Or does he wish to tell me that…that he hates me for what I did?

The thought was an agony all its own. Axel barely had the strength to contemplate that possibility. That he should finally find such bliss, such intoxicating pleasure in the arms of another – so perfect that he would care nothing for any other from that moment on and seek only those arms again – only to fear that perhaps his passion was not mutual… Blessed Virgin, I beg you, do not let it be true.

He waited in his chambers, sitting upon the bedclothes fully dressed, making no preparations for sleep until Roxas should come. Perhaps when we are alone…there will be no more reason for concealment… Surely, Roxas would meet his eyes when he came to see to the fire. Surely, in that beautiful gaze he would read his answer – a desire to match the burning need he felt.

It seemed as if morning would come before Roxas. When the soft tap finally came, Axel nearly jumped from the bed before controlling himself and waiting. His heart pounded heavily as Roxas softly entered. Look at me, Roxas, look at me…

Roxas didn't.

With eyes cast down, he bowed slightly and went straight to the fire, turning his back to Axel as he quietly added wood to the blaze and tended the hearth. Axel watched in tormented silence, waiting for a moment when the boy would turn to him at last. But Roxas rose and walked to the door with his gaze firmly on the ground, and he slipped noiselessly out of the room, and the heavy sound of the wooden door closing behind him felt like a death blow to Axel's heart.

Axel lay on his bed awake until well after dawn. After a long period of pained shock, his mind awakened and began to dissect the meaning of Roxas' reaction, tearing to bits every moment he could recall since the boy had first returned his gaze. Yet no amount of thinking made this behavior clear to him – he could not understand why Roxas seemed to be rejecting him. The only thing that was miserably clear was that either Roxas was today a different boy from the one he had held last night, or Roxas…was turning him away.

The Tenth Day of Christmas had no light, no joy, no scents or sounds to please him. When asked, Axel only replied that he felt unwell. When the feast concluded – still without those entrancing blue eyes meeting his own – and Axel returned to his chambers, he was greeted by a warm, blazing fire. Roxas had come early.

He wishes to avoid me. He hates even to be a moment in my company?

The Eleventh and Twelfth Days of Christmas were the same. Axel tried to put aside his broken heart for the last feast, the most marvelous celebration of the season, but it was only a show of merriment he brought. His heart was dark. To Axel's mind, he had been condemned to a life empty of any hope for love. How could he find love in a woman when the act of uniting with them sickened him so? When he couldn't even bear to think of trying again with another one? And how could he hope for another man to meet his eyes the way Roxas had, and come to his bed as willingly as Roxas had, and make him feel all the ecstasy that Roxas had, and then return to his arms and be a constant companion in years to come?

With the feasts of the Twelve Days of Christmas concluded, it was time for the Epiphany Mass. The lord and his household and all the people, from the greatest to the least, all dutifully made the cold march to the chapel to hear Mass and be absolved of any sins committed during the revelry. Axel stood by his father in the front of the assembly, before the altar, and knelt and rose again as if he were a child's wooden toy and his limbs were manipulated by a stranger's hands. The Latin words floated through his mind, unheeded. He was cold, but he did not feel it.

What he did feel was guilt. A great and heavy burden of guilt washed over him during Mass. For the first time, he realized what his night with Roxas would be called by God. Sodomy. An almost unthinkable sin.

Axel remained behind for confession when his father returned home. Twenty years of going to Mass and being taught religion by his tutors came down with a crushing weight on his heart, and he was desperate to be free of it. However, when he was closeted in the confessional with the priest, words seemed to leave him entirely.

"Forgive me, Father, for I have sinned."

"What is your sin, my son?" The aged voice answered, even and calm as always.

Axel swallowed, then swallowed again. He struggled to name himself a sodomite, but his throat closed on the admission. "I…I took a servant of my father's house to my bed." There. That was not a lie.

"Hmm. When was this?"

"Five days ago."

"Was she wedded, or a maiden?"

Axel hesitated. He felt almost certain this wasn't a lie… "A v-virgin."

"Hmm. It is not good to defile a maiden before her marriage." Axel was silent. He knew the usual penance for a laborer or a common man was to marry the woman, if he himself was not already married. However, as the son of the lord, he would not be made to marry a servant. The priest continued, "You have sinned against God and yourself, but also against this servant girl, and you must take responsibility for her future. If she bears your child from this, you must provide for the child. You must also provide the girl with a suitable dowry, so that she may marry. If there is no child, this needn't be done at once, but you must attend to it when the time comes. This will absolve the sin against the girl. For yourself, you must show your repentance by never having relations with her again. And for God, you must pray before the altar and pay a tithe to the Church."

Axel listened to the words and accepted them, but one part stung him straight in the heart when he heard it – Never take Roxas to bed again. Never touch him again. Never seek him out or kiss him or hold any hope for him again. He almost choked on his murmured answer. "I will do everything you say, Father. I swear it before God."

"Then you are forgiven, my Son. Go in the grace of Christ."

As he walked home alone, Axel's conscience felt lighter. The guilt was gone, and he could breathe again. Yet at the same time, a terrible pain was twisting in his heart. He had sworn to give Roxas up, and truly, it seemed that he must do so anyway, for the boy had given him no reason to hope for a second time together. The last few days had already been a harsh enough penance for him, and now it felt as if the doom were set in stone and Axel could only accept it. A life without love. A bed without joy. And someday, I must…provide a dowry for a maid so that he may marry her. His eyes stung in the cold, and Axel blinked them rapidly. Perhaps I should speak to father soon about arranging my own marriage, he thought miserably. Once it is done and the choice made for me, I may resign myself to a known fate. And perhaps marriage will help me forget…

He already knew it was a vain hope, but he could pretend…at least until his first sight of Roxas when he returned home. When his eyes rested on the boy, who still turned away without meeting his gaze, he could not pretend any longer. He was forced to excuse himself to his chambers, saying he felt unwell and asking his father to send a servant with his dinner. Then he lay on his bed and fought against the tears, cursing himself for a pitiful man, yet unable to suppress the hurt entirely. When he remembered Roxas and the peerless bliss of that night together, and when he compared that with what he knew of others and what surely awaited him in marriage…a few drops did slip free, and no amount of cursing could restrain them.

Then, for a while afterward, he just lay still, unthinking, unfeeling…empty. A soft tap at his door made him turn his head, finally, and Axel called, "Enter," remembering that it was probably his dinner.

His breath caught when the door opened and Roxas stepped inside.

The boy was carrying a tray, his eyes down, and it hurt just to look at him, but Axel couldn't stop. In such a short time, he had gone from deeply fascinated with Roxas to something so much more – Roxas was the only one he wanted, and the knowledge that he could not have him stabbed painfully in his chest. Still, his eyes lingered, unable to do anything but stare at the servant as he set the food down within reach. So close…

A slight clatter drew Axel's attention to the hands that were releasing the tray. He blinked. They were…shaking. He looked again. Roxas was trembling. Does he hate and fear me so much? For a moment, that thought made the pain even worse than before.

But Roxas was standing still, beside Axel's bed, eyes still on the tray he had set down. He wasn't turning his back and leaving, and in that moment of hesitation, Axel could not prevent himself from studying the boy's profile, a desperate hope flickering to life in his heart. The servant's expression was tight and empty, but… His eyes. There was torment etched in the lines around those eyes, and Axel's heart beat harder to know what it meant. Look at me, please…Roxas, look at me, look at me…

As if obeying, blue eyes lifted and met his own.

Confusion. Axel read it there easily. Most of all – confusion. A little fear. But more than that. He knew it the moment he saw it – a perfect reflection of a feeling he knew so well, now. Longing. Desire tainted with doubt, but still there, still hungering for something…someone…

"Roxas I want you." The words left his heart without a thought. They were soft, but strong and true. The boy shivered, hope entering his eyes silently. "I want you, only you, forever."

It was the first time he had spoken to Roxas, not as a master to a servant, but as himself. The words made him feel raw and open – completely vulnerable. And he knew, even as he spoke them, that his penance was ruined. He had sworn never to seek Roxas again, and this was more than that – this was a plea for the boy to respond. He could be damned for this.

He didn't care.

"Only…me?" The hesitant words had a soft accent to them, and Axel shuddered at the sound of Roxas' voice. It was perfect.

"Only you." Axel answered the growing hope in Roxas' eyes as much as he answered the question. "I beg you, as a man – be mine." He leapt from the bed smoothly, and before Roxas could react he had bent to one knee – a posture no lord's son would ever take before a servant, or anyone save a man above him…or a woman he adored. "Be mine, and I will never cast you away as long as I live. I swear it on this heart."

Those beautiful lips parted wordlessly, emotion overflowing in blue eyes as Roxas struggled to speak and produced only silence…then gave up suddenly. Strong arms clasped Axel about the neck and pulled him close as Roxas kissed him, full and firm and thrilling. And Axel responded almost wildly, his heart barely able to believe this answer to his hopeless hope. His senses were swept away in joy, however, and he stood quickly – clutching Roxas and never parting from the kiss – and pulled the boy into his arms before tumbling to the bed together.

Roxas grasped and writhed to press himself closer as they rolled over one another, kissing with bruising force, hands rushing in a frenzy to touch each other everywhere they could. Then, with as much urgency as he had kissed Axel, Roxas withdrew and began to speak. A stream of foreign words suddenly poured from his mouth, Axel blinking as he failed to catch any meaning whatsoever in the words Roxas spoke. Yet the tone…it was passionate and filled with suppressed longings and miseries, so much like all the things Axel had been feeling toward Roxas. The torrent of speech made no sense, but at the same time he understood perfectly, and he listened to Roxas pour out his thoughts and feelings and he adored the sound of Roxas' voice and his heart felt truly peaceful for the first time in years.

As Roxas' words slowed, the tone became wondering, almost incredulous, and the boy reached toward Axel again and traced slow touches over his face, gazing at him with adoration shining from his eyes. And Axel knew his feelings were requited.

If he lived to see a thousand Christmases, Axel could not imagine a joy more complete than this moment in Roxas' arms, as he softly kissed his lover again, touching him with tender reverence, unable to quite believe that Roxas was his. In a moment, perhaps, he would confirm it with Roxas. If words were too clumsy, they would know each other's hearts by uniting their bodies. But for now, words, however clumsy, must be said.

"My love, I pledge my life to you." Axel didn't know how much Roxas understood, but he hoped that the boy could hear his feelings and sincerity in his tone. He had more to say – he wanted to promise Roxas the world, he wanted the boy to know that Axel would be Roxas' family and home. But those words could be said later, when they would be understood. For now, it was enough to simply see acceptance in the eyes he adored, and to know that he was no longer alone.

He held Roxas, his most priceless Christmas gift, and with his whole heart Axel thanked whomever had given him such a perfect companion to cherish for life.

~o~

Note to readers! Hey guys! If you read this because you're into Axel and Roxas and that's pretty much it, well...thanks! I hope you liked it! :D But if you also wonder if this Kurosora1984 lady has anything else to entertain you, and if you are even a little interested in other guys getting their sexy romance on, check out my current original story on FP! Links in my profile! Thank you, dears! :D