When Sora’s awake, Roxas dreams.

He dreams of silver hair and pale skin and laughing green eyes (but they’re not quite right, ringed with pleasure as well as sadness and deep, like the ocean). He dreams of sun and sand and sparring and laughter. He dreams of a boy who he’s known all his life but who will never see him in the way that he’s seen.

When Sora’s asleep, he sees what Roxas saw.

He dreams of flaming hair and bronzed skin and mischievous green eyes (but the are too bright, too sharp, like glass over acid). He dreams of fire and ice cream and pain and pleasure. He dreams of a man who shared everything with him except for what he wanted most and could not give; his heart.

In the brief limbo states between sleep and wakefulness, Sora and Roxas meet.

They come together in a clash of hands and skin and teeth, hurting and pleasing, hating and loving. There are punches as well as strokes, bites as well as kisses and it isn’t long before their (non)bodies are trembling, nerves pulled taunt-

Sora starts awake in damp, tangled sheets, panting heavily as Roxas dreams the same.