The Round Room, (Following that line of thinking, Xemnas realized that Ansem the Seeker of Darkness' passing had left a void within his heart -- one that he'd be filling with an overdose of research. As it turned out, such a moment was ill-fitted for that sort of lamentation.) In The World That Never Was.
(His hand settled more firmly on his thigh, infecting Roxas with the same excitement that set his nerves alight. The very kind that left him breathless -- thoughtless, unable to think but feel. There was an edge of desperation to his voice, to the gentle push of his hand under his shirt to placate him onto the bed, to the way his impossibly chiselled physique towered over an androgynous and short build, and to the way his hands kept skimming over every inch of available skin, demandingly so. As it turned out, the designation of superiority applied to more than just his title. The tableau they made was sinful: Xemnas laying atop him on a broad and restful couch full of fluffy pillows, comforting to tired limbs. As an alternative, a return to the wind-swept, snow-chilled Twilight Town side street. It had to keep going; Xemnas nerved his soggy muscles to the ordeal. Into such depths of arousal had the mind of the Superior lapsed.)
(He had an impressive throng of indulgent partners to try out his kinks with; a covert harem of sorts. No one suspected anything, save for Xigbar. Only he knew of Xemnas' regular search for suitable outlets for his lustful fixations. However, it belatedly occurred to him that Roxas had never been his go-to source for sexual relief. Not like he regarded him as fine china -- far from it even -- but any feelings he'd directed towards Roxas had simply been denied, filed away into the darkest recesses of his mind, simply censored by choice and by design.
It wasn't until now that Xemnas unleashed them.)
Exchanges will be verbal until I acquire your Gummi technology. Soon, very soon.
(He mouthed the words against his chin, then trailed them up to his lips, ghosting his over Roxas' in a sensuous way.
People too often chalked up his dullness to an underdeveloped range of emotions. Fortunately for him, his indulgent subordinates with benefits knew better. They had perfected methods of extracting the Superior's carnal passions. To some measure, so had Roxas, but in a far different sense. In contrast, none of them came to satisfy Xemnas' emotional needs because there were none to be filled back then. Such tenderness had eluded him, by choice and by design, and it had suited him well enough: only the pursuit of physical gratification had mattered to his one-track mind. Yet, after dying for the second time, he needed more. More connection, more affection. It seemed like, in every moment, that his unconscious and intuitive mission in life was to lend colour and light and cheer to colourless, dim, and forlorn folk wherever he bonded with them.)
Have you done this before?
(He selfishly hoped not, wishing nothing more for him to initiate Roxas to the pleasures of the flesh. Promiscuity was easier for Xemnas -- much easier than a journey of emotional discovery.
So long as the Key of Destiny embraced it, Xemnas saw no reason to stop.)
tw: smutish?
(His hand settled more firmly on his thigh, infecting Roxas with the same excitement that set his nerves alight. The very kind that left him breathless -- thoughtless, unable to think but feel. There was an edge of desperation to his voice, to the gentle push of his hand under his shirt to placate him onto the bed, to the way his impossibly chiselled physique towered over an androgynous and short build, and to the way his hands kept skimming over every inch of available skin, demandingly so. As it turned out, the designation of superiority applied to more than just his title. The tableau they made was sinful: Xemnas laying atop him on a broad and restful couch full of fluffy pillows, comforting to tired limbs. As an alternative, a return to the wind-swept, snow-chilled Twilight Town side street. It had to keep going; Xemnas nerved his soggy muscles to the ordeal. Into such depths of arousal had the mind of the Superior lapsed.)
(He had an impressive throng of indulgent partners to try out his kinks with; a covert harem of sorts. No one suspected anything, save for Xigbar. Only he knew of Xemnas' regular search for suitable outlets for his lustful fixations. However, it belatedly occurred to him that Roxas had never been his go-to source for sexual relief. Not like he regarded him as fine china -- far from it even -- but any feelings he'd directed towards Roxas had simply been denied, filed away into the darkest recesses of his mind, simply censored by choice and by design.
It wasn't until now that Xemnas unleashed them.)
Exchanges will be verbal until I acquire your Gummi technology. Soon, very soon.
(He mouthed the words against his chin, then trailed them up to his lips, ghosting his over Roxas' in a sensuous way.
People too often chalked up his dullness to an underdeveloped range of emotions. Fortunately for him, his indulgent subordinates with benefits knew better. They had perfected methods of extracting the Superior's carnal passions. To some measure, so had Roxas, but in a far different sense. In contrast, none of them came to satisfy Xemnas' emotional needs because there were none to be filled back then. Such tenderness had eluded him, by choice and by design, and it had suited him well enough: only the pursuit of physical gratification had mattered to his one-track mind. Yet, after dying for the second time, he needed more. More connection, more affection. It seemed like, in every moment, that his unconscious and intuitive mission in life was to lend colour and light and cheer to colourless, dim, and forlorn folk wherever he bonded with them.)
Have you done this before?
(He selfishly hoped not, wishing nothing more for him to initiate Roxas to the pleasures of the flesh. Promiscuity was easier for Xemnas -- much easier than a journey of emotional discovery.
So long as the Key of Destiny embraced it, Xemnas saw no reason to stop.)