Title: Some days Sane...Some Not
Author:windrider1
Prompt: Kingdom Hearts: Cloud/Leon, rough sex - Some days he's saner than others.
Rating: R
Warnings: Sex
Summary: Leon thought maybe he could understand.
A/N: I'm not very familiar with Yaoi, but I thought I'd give it a try. Probably not as "shmexy" as the prompter would have liked, but I got nervous. LOL. I do hope it's okay, though!



Oh, it was going to be one of those days, Leon silently acknowledged as his palms were abraded by rough brick and teeth scraped—unforgiving and demanding—against the back of his neck. He grunted, muffled and ignored, when a hard thigh moved between his legs and impatient hands fumbled with the clasps of his belts.

“I can get—” his words were cut off by a sharp bite and a hiss of ,“Shut up and don't move!” in his ear, and Leon—stubborn, willful, determined Leon—obeyed. He kept silent and still even as his pants were shoved down to his ankles and his face was pressed harder into the wall. He remained statue still even when he felt the slick probing of saliva damp fingers followed by the much more demanding seeking of hard cock.

Breath snaked between clenched teeth and his fingers curled into stone as rhythm increased and finally, finally, the relentless pressure of the forearm on his back released and hands moved to grip his hips instead. He shifted his weight, arched a bit and emitted a soft groan as the new angle served to increase friction and pressure—pulling, pushing, tightening—until he felt he was going to burst.

But silent, he remained.

He'd learned by now that words were useless on days like today. This wasn't about pleasure so much as it was about pain, and punishment...

This was about fear and death and about hair not dark enough or long enough and a body not soft enough and lacking in both curve and form. This was about eyes the wrong shade and a smile not there. This was about silent strength and a wish to endure, and this was about a torn apart heart trying to heal.

Leon understood this—or he thought he did—and he tried, in his own way, to be supportive. He was his friend, after all. So, despite the punishing grind of hips that never slowed and the hard grip of hands that never caressed or the bruising force of lips that never softened, he told himself he understood. And even when clothes were shoved and torn and harsh breathing was the only sound between them, Leon thought he understood.

Because blond was never black enough for him either.