Game, Set

One more part to go! Marluxia's point of view this time, la.

---

Marluxia liked to bring her small things to play with. He had a certain fondness for the way her eyes lit up at the sight of them, adored the strangely-vicious curve of her lips as she discovered how best to toy with them, and waited, with his breath held, for the instant when she tired of them. Pleasure and cruelty both at their apex. And then, of course, there was the aftermath.

Trinkets that were symbolic, in a way, of the proper courtship they would never have.

So when she asked for Axel, in the way that wasn't really asking, he decided to bring her Axel, even though he expected it to be far more difficult than any of his other little presents. Because she wanted it, even whimsically, and he wanted her to have those few things she wanted. They were few and far between. Because he loved her, in his way.

And because this thing she wanted might have some value for them both.

*

Numbered VIII, Axel had been a part of the Organization for longer than either of them (but never mind how long exactly, for a gentleman never pries), and had garnered something of a reputation.

It was said that he rarely took on assigned worlds, but that when he did he would vanish for months at a time. Saix hissed that he was lazy, insolent, and cared nothing for their Grand Purpose; most of the others, Marluxia had discovered, rarely spoke of him at all.

He was dangerous, on some level. And, the others seemed to feel, not to be trusted.

All of which was perfect, really. For it meant that Axel might be dissatisfied, might be interested in new management. That he might even be persuaded to join their cause. And really, what was persuasion but another word for seduction?

He would keep an eye on Axel, naturally. They had to be sure. One innocuous dandelion was all it took to ruin an entire field.

*

In the end, he didn't have long to wait. Less than a week later, when that child Demyx came back from his latest world, Axel interrupted a long, rambling story about tea parties on the ceiling to say derisively, "I'm sorry, I forget. How is this getting us any closer to our hearts?" And when he rose from the table to storm out of the room, there was something very like real anger lurking behind his snide remark.

It was easy, after that. A hand on the redhead's shoulder, coaxing words whispered delicately in his ear, and Axel looked at him, eyes startlingly wide and almost -- almost -- unguarded. As if to say, A different way? A better way? Really?

There was, of course, a catch. A small, insignificant favor. But it only made the firebrand laugh.

*

In the bedroom, Axel was extremely cooperative. He shed his clothes on command, went down on his knees without comment and spread his legs helpfully for the oil. He didn't need to be told how to lie in her bed, and he hardly flinched at the ice on his wrists although it was certainly painful for him.

And if Marluxia had mistaken any of it for genuine subservience, he would have worried that Larxene might be disappointed. Instead he reached out, caught Axel's chin between his fingers, and when those sweetly-lowered eyes finally met his own in curiosity, Marluxia told him, "She's going to enjoy breaking you."

For an instant, maybe less, something stilled behind those eyes. Then they widened, startled, and a flush even crept into his cheeks. He looked alarmed, genuinely alarmed, and that, too, was dangerous, because he wasn't, and this time, Marluxia recognized it.

Whatever he'd felt at that little pronouncement, this wasn't it. Larxene would never know the difference; most of the others would likely never have known the difference. She was cruel and fierce but not manipulative, not really (so few of them were really manipulative), and Axel was good at what he did. Very good, even.

But he was better.

What a relief to know for certain. Marluxia smiled at the red-haired man, generous, and leaned in to press a delicate kiss on his wide mouth. Allowing himself to be taken in by the little ruse. As long as he could tell when Axel was manipulating him, they would be able to trust him. Be able to use him.

Up to a point, of course.

"Don't worry," he murmured, and only just refrained from adding, 'your pretty little head.' "She'll stop before you're really broken. As long as you're careful not to, shall we say, lay it on too thick." For she would be furious if she suspected his deception, and she was lovely but frightening when she was furious.

Axel blinked his eyes open, languorous as a dreamer, and said simply, "I won't."

He wasn't really very pretty. He wasn't even classically handsome, like some of the others. But there was, Marluxia reflected, a sort of sinewy beauty to his body as he flexed against his chains, all sleek muscle and long, surprisingly-graceful limbs. With her black silk sheets beneath him, he was as appropriate as a piece of decadent jewelry in a velvet box: bright green eyes, flame-red hair, and now shining skin in the darkness.

*

Briefly he thought Larxene was going to run from the room. She didn't, but he couldn't truly relax until she was settled just above Axel's slender hips, clawing the hell out of his chest like a contented kitten and watching him bleed.

The way he tensed and twisted, little gasps of not-quite pain, was probably making her wet. It stuck in his throat, caught his breath to imagine, and Marluxia identified the rush of blood in his ears as excitement. With, perhaps, an edge of however close to jealousy they could come.

Was this, Marluxia wondered, going to be a problem? He had never shared her with another before, never had this particular experience in either life; was he one of those ridiculous lovers who could not bear to see the object of his affections "soiled" by a hand not his own?

But this feeling, like all others, passed. Instead as he turned lidded eyes to their bodies on the bed, Marluxia found himself thinking with mild amusement about the way she moved her hips, rolling deliciously just so as she leaned in close to cut him again and whisper something nasty in his ear. He might have made her wet, but was the weight of her enough to make him hard, even through this torment? Would he like her enough to forget what she was doing to him?

And, ah, yes. This heat was purely excitement.

Then Larxene sat back all at once, and her tongue slipped out to clean the blackred from her fingertips. She grinned wickedly, and said, more to him than to Axel, "What a good boy." When she moved aside, eyes flickering over to Marluxia as though to share this joke with him, there was a rather noticeable tent in the sheets between the redhead's legs. One question answered.

To his credit, Axel did not attempt to look ashamed. He only gazed at her through his lashes and replied sweetly: "I aim to please."

Larxene widened her smile, and kissed him, but not on the mouth. Against his skin, Marluxia thought he heard her say softly, "Don't aim for anything. Just relax, let me do the rest." Her lips curled. "And for fuck's sake stop holding it all in."

*

Beautiful. She was so much more deadly than a million of her gleaming knives. Something poisonous, like a cobra poised to strike. And this part, Marluxia actively appreciated seeing from a distance. He could never get a clear view of her perfect white teeth when they were sinking into his throat.

Axel tried to duck away from her teeth by saying, almost apologetically: "I don't make a lot of noise." His first mistake.

She didn't try to argue with him, or anything of that sort -- it wasn't in her nature to waste words. But she did lift her eyebrows in polite disbelief and lay her hands, palm-down, on his ruined chest. Axel tensed, eyes bright and intent but still not ready for the jolt that went through him, his whole body twisting, his head falling back, the air spilling raggedly from his open mouth.

Marluxia almost sympathized. The little minx had sent a burst of her electricity right through his ribcage, forcing his heart to skip a beat, leaving his smallest hairs on end and his skin very raw. Sensitive. So that this time, when she lowered her head to kiss and suck at the wounds she'd given him, he very nearly cried out.

"There, see?" Larxene was so pleased with herself, almost vibrating with it, as her toy fought to get his breath back. "That's much better." She slid a hand beneath the sheets, rising up on her knees to give his cock room, eyes aglow and more electric than her touch. Taking pleasure in his pleasure as Axel jerked responsively and moaned through his teeth.

"You don't -- play fair," the firebrand choked out, and then his head fell back, eye contact broken.

Only Marluxia could see her simmering delight as she bowed her head to kiss and bite at the edges of one laceration, stroking his cheek when he gave a muffled shout. "If Marluxia ever said I would, he was lying."

She knew better, of course. Obvious lies were rarely worth the effort.

But something in the train of thought appeared to give her pause, and she turned away from Axel to look at him as she added, "If you're so worried about fair, perhaps you'd rather play with him instead."

It was his turn now.