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yaoipublicdomain · 2 years

Text

Consummate Love

by Sephi

Fandom: Kingdom Hearts

Pairing: (M/M) Axel/Roxas (Dissociative Identity Disorder, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Roxas Has DID - Dissociative Identity Disorder, Roxas Is An Alter, Romance, Light Angst, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Established Relationship, Cuddling & Snuggling)

Summary: Roxas hasn't fronted in a long time, but Axel loves him all the same.

Read on: AO3 | Tumblr (under the cut)

A/N: I wrote this to celebrate the tenth anniversary of one of my largest Axel/Roxas fanfiction I published! (Has it really been that long already?) I would mirror it here but... let's just say I've certainly improved quite a bit in ten years time. LOL. It felt really good to go back to my roots... my original OTP!

This story takes place in a modern AU, in the home that Axel and Roxas's system share (composed of himself, Sora, Ventus, Vanitas and some others). They've been together with Axel for a long time, but Roxas has been dormant for a while now and struggles with his past traumas and issues...

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Roxas awoke with a start, jolting back to reality with an iciness that frosted over his mind, freezing him solid in his place of fear. It was a peaceful morning, perfect in its stillness, quiet save for the gentle rhythm of Axel’s breath. Roxas’s tension sank away from him slowly, melting into the realization that he was still there; the warmth of Axel’s affection—still radiant, even in his sleep—thawed Roxas in waves like gentle licks of flames. Axel’s arms possessively coiled around Roxas’s waist, the promise of his protective nature etched into the strength of his slender arms. Roxas silently watched the dust filter through the stripes of the golden sunrise, watched it as it glittered like snowflakes, watched how the beams that christened the birth of a new day made floral patterns across their beige walls.

Even if Roxas still struggled to recall his place in this world, the time in which the couple presently existed, even how long had passed since his eyes had last opened; there was a profound sense of permanence to Axel’s presence in itself. Roxas exhaled slowly, consciously working his clumsy breath until it could match the pace Axel had set, following his guidance as he always had. Roxas moved his fingertips gently, feeling the way that their handmade quilt felt heavy against his skin, brushing his hands against the clothing he’d worn to sleep—all things that he didn’t recognize, that somehow did not belong to him, were not his own.

But Axel was.

Roxas closed his eyes, leaning back into Axel’s chest and neck. He liked that he was shorter than Axel, and he treasured how Axel loved to hold him so tightly, how Axel curled his body around him like a big cat. Axel mumbled something in his sleep and hummed as soon as he felt Roxas roll his shoulders back against his chest, nestling his fluffy hair into his exposed skin.

Roxas pulled the quilt up higher around him, pressing it over his chin and then his cheeks. He liked the weight that it held and the way that it sounded as it glided across his arms. Memories that felt like only yesterday played in his mind, informing Roxas of his lifelong mission, of his purposes, his likes and dislikes. He felt like he was being calibrated slowly, almost like an old computer; the longer Roxas was awake, the more processing power his body had, giving him time to think about what he was—or what he used to be.

Axel’s large, worn hands found Roxas’s arm, petting him in long, gentle strokes with the grace of a painter. The first signs that Axel was awake were this and how his breath became lighter, shallower.

“Hey,” He mumbled slowly, taking a moment to breathe in the way Roxas’s hair smelled against him. “Couldn’t sleep?”

Roxas felt that cold freeze again, terrified that maybe, if he spoke, his Axel might not even recognize him anymore. He paused, nervously threading his fingers into their shared blanket.

“Yeah.” Roxas kept his voice small, forgetting how to even pretend to be someone new—or whoever Axel had expected. Maybe Axel was used to this life, a life of the ever changing personalities that he had grown to love, but to Roxas, the Roxas in this moment, he felt all alone. “I’m awake.”

Axel stretched, then snaked himself back into a better position, optimizing how close he could pull Roxas. He pushed one of his legs in between Roxas’s, nuzzling his face down into Roxas’s platinum blonde hair affectionately. He kissed him there, gently.

“How long have you been awake?”

“Not sure.” Roxas closed his eyes and tried to enjoy the feeling, trying to let it all sink in. This is real. I am real. He looped this in his mind, the only coping skill he’d maintained, the only one that had reached him through all his years of therapy.

“You’re so tense…” Axel purred, his hands pausing along the smooth plain of Roxas’s upper arms. “Bad dream?”

“Something like that.” Roxas felt his body heat from the inside of his core from the tender way Axel treated him. He felt so safe, so nurtured, just in such a simple embrace. Axel’s touch had reached deep within him, anchored him to this reality. Roxas felt the permanence of Axel’s presence in every touch, even in the thin window of perspective Roxas was afforded into his life.

“I know that voice…” Axel was still so sleepy, the kind of relaxed and tired that reaches the height of human comfort. His voice blanketed Roxas. “That’s my Roxas.”

Roxas blushed. How could Axel remember him? When was the last time he’d fronted? Roxas couldn’t remember anything about this room, he couldn’t relate to any of the pictures that adorned the walls of the couple, or any of the places that the photos proudly proclaimed they were taken in. He couldn’t recognize the furniture, their bed. If he were asked what year it was, the answer would be the same—he rolled the numbers one by one, slowly, through his mind: two thousand and five, maybe two thousand and six… But admittedly, Roxas’s body felt different than a fifteen year old boy’s, and deep down he knew in his heart that much more than that had changed.

“Yeah.” Roxas wouldn’t lie. He’d been called out, recognized from the way his body held his voice, or maybe from the way he held his shoulders, or how he couldn’t help but gasp at Axel’s touch—nonetheless it hadn’t slipped past Axel’s watchful, observant eye. “It’s me.”

“I missed you.” The emotion was heavy in Axel’s voice, radiating a deep, profound love. The way Axel held Roxas tight spoke to how much he cherished him, in every form within his body and soul. “It’s been a long time.”

A long time was always relative from the perspective Roxas held, lost on the shore of the private ocean within his mind, wading through the sea of alters and their contexts that made up the patchwork of his life. Sometimes, the severity of a long time could be felt just in between the days as they passed naturally, how suddenly all of the people, places, and objects one had known are instantaneously difficult to remember in all of their complexity; how the mind of the current time struggled to bridge what had happened to jog the wheels of progression from the CD Walkman to the smartphone and onwards, onwards and upwards. A long time could be felt in the narratives one could wake up in, seeing themselves inside of, the way that arcs of development in the couple’s lives had soared by Roxas’s perception, had not sunk all the way to the bottom of his heart where he’d rested.

A long time intersected with my time, the wrong time, the sense of being inside a mysterious dollhouse of one’s own design when sleeping. The feeling of wrestling with one's choices, struggling against the consequences that one could not recall having a say in setting in motion. Yet, some incessant roots refused to be plucked, impossible to weed out of the mind, worked deep into the memory of muscles and the fiber of Roxas’s being.

This most important of these was Axel, in all of his timelessness, in all of the ways his kindness transcended the barriers erected in the maze of Roxas’s mind—how Axel’s gentle touch, those large, warm hands, could smooth down the grooves left behind from decades-old trauma time and time again. Oh, how hard Axel had labored, all with a heart of gold, learning to love Roxas for all that he was, in all the ways that he was and was not and could never be. Like running water Axel flowed along the path of consciousness that Roxas’s injured psyche needed to follow, never straying, rushing to fill the gaps of time, memories and moments with a kindness, with laughter. In sickness and in health, Axel loved all the expressions that composed Roxas, all of the shades of color that the boy named Roxas had grown to be, how proud he was that Roxas could survive at all, and how powerfully profound it was to see him happy. Each personality was a new way to reach further in Roxas’s mind, further inside his beating heart, into the folds of memory that most relationships could never hope to truly meet.

Tears stung Roxas’s eyes, dewy drops clinging to his lashes. He could no longer hold them back. They rolled silently from his cheeks.

“I’m so lost,” Roxas’s voice was weak, revealing tears that he’d never admit to anyone else. His muscles submitted when Axel held him tighter, pulled him closer. He melted into Axel’s warmth, his infinite support. “I don’t know who I am anymore.”

Axel quieted him, rocking him gently in his arms. They stayed like that for a while, Roxas turning to face him, cradled against his chest while Axel traced long lines down the smoothness of his back.

After sharing a long moment together, one granted by the merciful calm of the morning, the luxury morning provided of lots of time before Axel would have to leave for work, Roxas looked up into Axel’s gentle face.

The sun shone behind the strands of Axel’s bright red hair. It glowed against the side of his cheek, the sides of his skin that weren’t under Roxas’s pilfered blanket. Axel brushed the pads of his fingers in a smooth crescent against Roxas’s undereyes, rubbing the last of his tears away.

Roxas’s sky-blue eyes met Axel’s, searching for the truth they contained. “When you look at me, do you just see Sora? Or do you think of me mostly as Ventus?” His heart pleaded with Axel, terrified that maybe the love that existed in Axel’s soul was meant more for something else, that he was an afterthought, a ghost in the way of another. “Do you hate me for what Vanitas has done?”

Axel pet Roxas on his head, through his hair, shaking his head. “I see all of you. I love all of you, all the same.”

“How?” Roxas asked.

“How couldn’t I?” Axel laughed, fondly remembering over a decade of the time they’d shared. “I’m yours with all that I am. And you’re mine with all that you are. All of you.”

His words were like honey, the most precious sort of gift that Roxas could hear forever and still consider himself lucky. He couldn’t stop the tears from pouring now, but he felt safe.

“It’s okay.” Axel smiled softly. “I’m with you. I’ll help you.”

Axel took Roxas’s chin and titled it upwards so that he could look him straight in the eyes. His expression was calm, serene, full of affection.

“It’s alright, Roxas. I love you no matter who you are. I love all of you. I’ll never leave you.”

Roxas leaned into Axel’s peaceful caresses, feeling peace wash over him. Even if he didn’t know his place in this world, Axel was his home.

“I love you too.” Roxas felt so confident in those feelings, more than anything else. They kissed. “So much.”

#dissociative identity disorder #akuroku #axel/roxas #kingdom hearts #axel #roxas #my fic

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