Confessional

He'll never confess to anyone what he's about to do.

He departs Maleficent's council chambers, slipping through one of the many doors hidden amidst the ornate wall panels of Hollow Bastion's Grand Chapel. This one is particularly special, leading down a secret corridor to a room only he knows about. If he goes to the one he's been given then the others might call upon him, but here he has privacy, time to himself. 

Exactly what he needs.

The room is not a cheerful place. He didn't think so when he'd discovered it a week ago, and he doesn't think so now. The floors and walls are all dark stone, the light ambient magic, purple-hued. The architecture is not welcoming, and the designs etched into the walls are made to intimidate rather than invite. Its not big enough to be a hall, but not small enough to feel warm, lacking in intimacy.

That's alright. Riku doesn't want to feel warm, not with what he's about to do.

Eyes closed, he calls for them. Shapes rise up from the darkness—Shadows, identical to the rest of their kin save for the unusual hair-like shapes upon their heads, the same color and consistency as the rest of them. The silhouette is eerily familiar, uncanny mimicry of the one who's hurt Riku most.

Sora.

Riku sinks to the floor, legs spread. With his cheeks flushed, heart hammering, he undoes his pants, loosening—but not removing—his belt and wader straps, and parts the cloth so that his pussy is bared to the room. He shudders—just this is enough to leave him blushing, humiliated by his vulnerability and stomach heavy with shame. Yet heat curls inside him too, desperate, pleading, longing.

Desiring.

Shadows. Heartless. Named not so much for what they were, but for how they behaved; hearts consumed by darkness, driven only by desire, by the worst of passions, the cruelest of wishes. They are drawn to other hearts, especially those most like and unlike their own, always hungry, devouring, desiring. That last drew them in, like moths to flame—or predator to prey. 

Riku was their prey.

They come forward, slow, curious. He wonders if they've done this before, or if this is their first time encountering someone foolish enough to offer themselves like this. If it's the latter then they're just like him—clumsy and virginal with nothing beyond fantasies to guide them.

He shudders, first with fear, and then with a shock of something else as one of the creatures touches his leg. Its fellows swarm, skittering from all sides to surround him. Their antennae caress him, big golden eyes staring up at him as their quiet chitter fills the room. The one that touched him first comes closer, closer, and heat builds in Riku's belly as it leans in, a trickle of wet escaping his body as he tenses.

It gives him a single kitten lick.

Riku stiffens, if only to stop himself from bolting up and out of the room. It's too strange, the sensation sweet but so new, so unknown. His hands scrabble against stone as the creature licks him again, the other Heartless reaching out and drawing him down as he attempts to rise. His heart beats wildly in his chest, but he won't panic, squeezes his eyes shut briefly to recall the image he had in mind when he decided to do this.

I want—I need—

He can't think it in words. He can't.

Over and over the creature's tongue flicks his clit. It swirls the tiny nub, gently exploring his folds before pressing closer to spread them. Its tongue dips inside, forces the other Shadows to hold Riku down as he writhes, gasping. They nuzzle him with pseudo-affection, tiny hands pawing his body, nudging him with their softly-spiked heads. It really did feel like Sora was there then, save for the tiny antennae that tickled where they touched. They kiss and lick his body, others pushing his legs further apart to squeeze between them. Some claw at his clothes, seeking the skin underneath.

He jumps, heart thundering when he realizes he can't get away. Alone, Shadows are weak, but together they have enough strength to hold him down. They tug his clothes roughly, but never quite ripping them. I'm powerless, he thinks. I can't move, I can't—I—

The voice in the back of his head isn't kind enough to let that slide. You can make them vanish. You know you can. You just want to be humiliated, don't you? For all you claim to seek strength, your heart begs for the comfort of weakness.

"Shut up," he hisses, and the voice does. It's a cold comfort though, shame bleeding into and souring his pleasure.

He pretends the shame doesn't make it better. Pretends, pretends, pretends.

He loses himself to the fantasy—can't resist as the Heartless remove his clothes. Their tiny hands could be sharp as cat's claws, but in the moment they're like silk, removing each garment carefully. Shoes, shirt, waders, pants, even his underwear are drawn from his body, leaving him completely bare to their tongues and touches. Everything is gone, and there is only darkness.

It's then the creatures push him down properly, arms trapped, legs spread humiliatingly wide. The Heartless creep back between them, tonguing over his clit, fucking into his cunt, some slipping halfway into the ground to reach his ass. His thighs, shoulders, neck, ears, and stomach are teased and taunted, licks and nibbles left everywhere the creatures can reach. They suck his nipples, leave him shaking and shivering. One toys with his hair, mock-kindness that leaves him moaning long enough for another to press its tongue inside his mouth.

It's so much, too much. Riku whines, his whole body warm, sticky from sweat, the creatures' residue, and his own wet. He can't squirm away from the tongues, surrounded on all sides. Even if he manages to shift enough that one Heartless falls away, another quickly crawls over and takes its place. They press in deep, constant pressure inside him and on his clit. The sounds are sloppy, squelches that make him blush to his ears. 

Those sounds come from him—his body aching, desperate for more, desperate to be filled, desperate to be owned and hated and loved and seen.

Look at me, Sora. Come with me, Sora. Aren't I strong? Aren't I smart? Aren't I skilled, Sora?

Don't you want to be like me, Sora?

Don't you want me, Sora?

Don't you like me, Sora?

Thoughts mingle, churn in his head. The contradictory and the complementary thicken and ooze, out of his mind and into the desiring pit of his stomach. It's fuel to the fire there, has him forcing his legs wider despite all the Heartless holding him down, pleading wordlessly for something to take fuel and embers and fan it into an inferno. His body tingles, everything inside him in knots, and he needs—needs—

The hands on his thighs change, shift into something more human. The air is charged, alight with an energy that has his spine curving, hips canting forward. Breath in his throat, he opens his eyes to see a silhouette leaning over him, familiar, holding him down as the Shadows chitter and nuzzle his sides.

Sora. It's Sora.

It—no. He stares down at Riku, golden eyes penetrating, swirls of smoke creeping up, out of his body. If Riku looks close enough he can see the oozing places where the Shadows fused to form him, but he doesn't—not for long anyway. Instead he tilts his chin up as Sora looms over him, pressing forward so his lips hover over Riku's and his cock presses against the opening of his cunt. He can feel it, the tip stroking gently—a promise that brought sweet memories to mind, of years spent together and a lifelong friendship.

All gone now; shaken up, confused, morphed beyond all recognition.

Whose fault is that? He wonders.

Then Sora pushes in and Riku gasps, all thoughts irrelevant to this new feeling. It's like he's made for him, the perfect size and shape—small at first, but Riku can feel him becoming thicker inside, filling him until the stretch is just right. He glances down and wonders if he'll be able to see when Sora fucks him, when that cock slides in and out, but no. Sora leans in close and cradles him in his arms before rising, lifting Riku and sitting back. Riku gasps when Sora lowers him down on his cock, sliding deeper than Riku thought possible. No place, inside or out, is left untouched by Sora, one clawed hand coming up to massage his chest, the other stroking the small of his back. Sweet, soothing while Riku adjusts.

It's a mimicry of kindness. It doesn't last.

A gasp escapes when Sora slams him back against the ground, fucking him wildly. Smaller Heartless swarm as the one above him pounds into him, cock dragging against his walls. He's shaking, overwhelmed by sensation on all sides. There's just enough pain for it to feel good, but not enough to take from his pleasure. Tension builds, hips rocking and thighs shaking, his voice breaking on every moan as he's fucked into again and again. There are tears in his eyes—though he won't let them fall, no matter how good it feels when Sora grinds against him, cock deep inside.

"I—I—" Riku can hardly breath, the act of being taken everything he's ever wanted—even if it's too much for him. "I can't—I can't—I've never—"

But the creature doesn't stop, will never stop. He owns him; owns Riku's body and soul, and Riku can only follow his heart as it guides him into Sora's arms.

Still, his mind is a mess. Why do I want this?  Do I? I don't—not like this, not when I'm so pathetic, I—I'm not like this, my heart's strong, it's—I'm—

Sora kisses him and all thoughts become meaningless. His lips part, let Sora's tongue slip inside his mouth and rub against his while he fucks him, the wet sounds of his cunt echoing throughout the room. The heat in his stomach flares, growing and growing until his whole body is ablaze, twitching. It's too much, far too much. 

Isn't that just how Sora is though? For such a simple boy there's always been something about him, something Riku wants, needs, something—

Another thought lost. He's clutching at the floor, the Heartless, Sora's back, desperate. Sora pulls away and smiles, and Riku can't say if it's beautiful or horrifying, but then he's hugging him so tight, so close, and he comes. The thickness inside him feels so good, fucking him as his whole body shivers and shudders, stopping only to fill him with something hot when he's done. It spurts deep inside him, coating his walls until they're wonderfully warm. It's like carrying a little bit of Sora inside him, a piece of their bond that hasn't withered and died.

Some part that still loves me most. Some part that still loves me.

"Sora..."

The shadow creature leans in and kisses him. He lets it. It feels nice, even if something inside him grows cold at the touch, the banked fires in his stomach leaving nothing but ashes behind. Shame. There's no one here with him, nothing but golden eyes and darkness and tendrils of smoky black set against stone cold floors, and stone cold walls, and architecture most unwelcoming.

In the end there is no Sora, just a Heartless, and it carries none of Sora's love.

Riku's obsession—that's all it's ever been.

With that thought the creature fades, melting back into the ground along with all the other Shadows. For a second though, it looks at him, eyes almost sad, pleading. Guilt and shame rise in Riku then, but anger is all they flare into. With a hiss he kicks the creature, its darkness splattering across the floor like thickened blood.

It was him—Riku—the worst of him. Not Sora's love, just his need for it.

Those sad eyes would never belong to Sora. There's only one person so pathetic that the creature he made to sate himself would reflect his most despicable aspects right back at him during its last moments—its final mockery.

Pathetic. That about sums it up.

Heart gone cold, cheeks aflame, and shame once again a stone in his stomach, Riku dresses and leaves the room. The only thing he takes with him is the only thing he brought in; a promise.

I'll never confess to anyone what I've done. Never.