Archive of Our Own

Terra had forgotten what it felt like, being so... Isolated.

With everything packed in boxes, his tiny one-bedroom felt bigger than he could ever remember it being, the space expansive without anything to occupy it. He was still in the midst of stacking everything, lifting box after box to stack neatly against the walls. Someone would be coming for it early tomorrow morning; he'd arranged for everything to go to charity, trying to do right by karma in any way that didn't seem entirely futile.

His phone hadn't been packed away, but it probably should have been. He'd shut it off through his provider, as of yesterday. It was useless as anything but a paperweight to him, now.

So that was that. Every piece of his existence would be gone from this place in no time at all. Terra thought he'd come to grips with that, but... The whole process was horribly lonely. So much more painful than he'd expected, when the worst part of him – the majority – whispered that this was all so unnecessary. That he didn't actually have to do this, at all.

He could just go to Ven, after two weeks of avoiding and ignoring him. He could feed him lies, and then Terra wouldn't have to feel like this, anymore. They would go back to the way things had been; seeing each other nearly every day, in almost constant contact by phone or text, talking about deep things and frivolous things or even just quietly basking in one another. Wondering what the other was thinking, without a trace of suspicion. Thinking mostly about being together, and everything that meant.

But he resisted. He fought it. And he stacked another box.

It was a monotonous process, and he thought having nothing but his guilt to fill the silence might drive him mad soon, but it all came to a stuttering stop when someone knocked briskly at the door. Terra paused, leaning over his packed-up kitchenware.

The knock came again. Probably his landlord. He'd been having numerous issues with her over the short notice of his departure. No doubt she'd have yet another form for him to look at, something else to sign.

Without thinking to check through the peephole, Terra opened the door, and was faced with the absolutely last person he needed to see.

“There you are!”

Terra stared at the best friend he'd ever made, dumbstruck, and floundered. “Ven...”

Ventus was expressive, just by nature. He was open in his worry, his relief, and both of them broke through as he started to babble, “I've been trying to reach you forever! I called you a million times but you never answered, and then it said your number was cut off, and-...and I tried knocking at every number on your floor, but now I found you!”

“Ven,” he repeated, blankly. “You're... What are you doing here, you shouldn't -”

“Looking for you,” Ven started to frown. “It's been like...weeks. What's going on...?” He craned his neck, trying to see past Terra's impressive frame. He immediately took up as much space in the doorway as possible.

It was so much fresher, like a wound ripped wide open – Terra had been missing him so much that he ached, even if part of that came from an intrinsic need to...

He couldn't think about it, and he couldn't give Ven answers.

If he could just get him to leave quickly, Terra could finish this. And then start working on forgetting that look on his face...

“I think you need to head home.”

Worry was back, plowing over the joy at seeing Terra unharmed and present. “Why? Terra, what's wrong?”

“Nothing, exactly -” he cringed. “That's not exactly true, it's just...”

Ven seemed to guess at his meaning. He went quieter, eyes falling to the floor.

“... Do you not want to see me?”

“No-! I mean... Yes?” Terra gripped the door, struggling with himself. “... It's better if we don't see each other again.”

“Oh.”

His face was almost shadowed, directed at the floor, and Ven's voice had never sounded so heavy.

Terra's gut twisted. He wanted to explain. He wanted to tell Ven that he was doing this for him. That, in all the months of getting close to him, flawlessly becoming everything he wanted, this was the first thing he was doing right by him. It was the only thing he could do, and hurting him this way was a necessary, but far more temporary side effect.

But he couldn't explain, so he just said, “This isn't your fault.”

“So,” Ven couldn't look up, “you are avoiding me...”

Defeated, Terra nodded. “Yes.”

“... Why?” He was almost too shocked to make sense of 'hurt' right away. “I thought we were friends...”

“That's why. We are friends.”

“I don't understand... I thought...” he trailed off, unable to say more. To Terra's deep-seated distress, Ven was blushing.

Now would be the perfect time. Ven had never been so susceptible as he was at that moment - he could feel his vulnerability. Terra swallowed slightly.

“... I can't explain why. I'm sorry.”

“That's not fair,” Ven protested, quickly rubbing at his eyes as he took a step back. “Tomorrow, then. At the dojo. You better be ready to explain.”

Terra almost told him that he wouldn't be around, come tomorrow, but he stopped himself. This would be easier. He steeled himself with a slow breath, and confirmed over his guilt, “Tomorrow.”

“I-if you don't show up, I'll find you.” Ven tried to sound firm, but the effect was ruined by his shaking voice.

“... I know you will.” He wouldn't be able to.

“Good!” Ven turned on his heel tearfully, walking briskly back down the hall towards the elevators. Terra shut the door before he could be caught watching him go, leaning against it heavily.

He'd underestimated Ven. That had been his stupid, stupid mistake. Two weeks of silence, and of course he'd come to find Terra – he'd never stayed over, that hadn't felt safe, but he'd known where the building was. When Ven got a stubborn idea into his head, embarrassment wouldn't stop him... He must have tried every door from the ground floor, up...

This was the total, unconditional devotion he'd wanted from Ven, when he chose him. This was the need Terra had fashioned in him from day one. And now...

Terra dropped his head into one hand, closing his eyes.

Someone had started to laugh, too faint to be distinct right away... But it was growing louder, familiar in a way Terra couldn't place. A mad cackle, seemingly coming from the walls.

“Stop it,” Terra warned the room at large, voice low and back tensed. “I've made my decision.”

“Interesting choice. You like the cute ones, do you?”

The voice was layered, echoing, still disembodied. One voice among the discord began to dominate, though, even as he spoke. The familiarity, though, clicked into place. Terra's eyes narrowed, inhaling to confirm the speaker's identity.

A sharp scent, both cloying and sour and musky all at once. Of course it was him.

“Vanitas. Stop using his voice.”

Another cackle, and the many tones tapered out until it was only Ven's voice, coming from the direction of an empty bookshelf in the corner. Vanitas materialized there, cross-legged, having adopted a new image for himself; he could have been Ven's doppelganger in many respects, apart from the wilder black hair and the burning-gold of his eyes.

He hadn't opted for skin, either, apart from the neck-up. The red-black fibers served the function of flesh, formed similarly to the musculature of a human.

“What are you doing here?” Terra glared, narrow-eyed. “I know you don't have any targets in this area. I've been the only one around for months.”

Vanitas didn't seem to be listening. He was tugging at a black spike, closest to his eyes, scrutinizing it. “I can never get the really virtuous ones quite right... Oh, well. I think it's an improvement.”

When he released it to finally look at Terra, he leaned forward, elbows resting on thin air to spit in the face of gravity. “I want to know what's taking so long. But this is much better than I expected.”

“It was a waste of time. He's incorruptible,” Terra shortly informed him.

“Really?” his eyes gleamed, voice silky. “From where I'm sitting...” Vanitas tipped himself off the shelf and planted his feet on the ceiling, starting to stroll the length of the room upside-down as though unable to resist the contradiction, “He was in the perfect condition to be corrupted right there. He's got it ba-ad for you. I mean,” he paused, nose inches from Terra's. “Look at that face.”

Terra glowered, rooted to the spot. “It's not as simple as it looked.”

“Maybe you're just not working your angle right?” The wicked smirk on his face defied his resemblance to Ven completely. “Mind if I try?”

“He's mine if he's anyone's. Just drop it, Vanitas,” Terra tried to remain calm, but his own nature gave him away. Darkness curled around his feet, seeping off him in waves. The ache that had been corroding him from the inside, the undeniable hunger to bring someone so pure back down to Hell with him, had weakened his physical form. It just wasn't so easily maintained when he hadn't been around Ven in so long, the object of his manipulation – Terra needed to sustain his body off his wants, absorb the ever-increasing adoration as though sampling the bouquet before drinking down.

Vanitas took a step back, but it wasn't out of fear. As though he couldn't care less, he rocked back on his heels. “Aw, I'd only take a taste. Just to check if he's really as pure as you say. After all, I've been at this much longer than you. Might even wear him down a little for you, do you a favor.”

“I don't need any help from you,” he growled. Vanitas's eyes narrowed.

“That's a bit rude.” Gracefully, he dropped from the ceiling to lounge in mid-air, arms and legs crossed. Humor suddenly disappeared, becoming sharp and accusing. “You've never even tried to take him, have you?”

“What?” Terra grit his teeth, the darkness thicker and curling higher by the moment. “Of course I have – I wouldn't just give up.”

It was a lie. Any time he'd sensed that he could, that Ven's soul was in his grasp... He just couldn't go through with it.

“That's what I just don't get. You've got Grade A, untarnished soul throwing itself at you. And after all the work you put in, keeping up this lame form for months, why are you getting cold feet now?” Vanitas demanded. While he spoke, Terra slunk away from the door, starting to pace.

But he never turned his back on Vanitas. He knew better.

“I told you, I can't take him. To follow me into Hell, he has to come willingly, and Ven wouldn't do that no matter how much he loves me,” Terra sounded steady, but saying the words aloud felt like a blow to the chest. He'd tried so hard not to let himself think about it – that Ven might love him.

And Terra could never even see him again. What he'd done to him, by manifesting with Ven in mind... The heartbreak he must be putting him through...

Vanitas sounded colder still, advancing. “You know this isn't some kind of vacation. You don't just get to play human for a while, no matter how pretty your toy is. You gave up your happy-ending privileges, in case you forgot.”

Terra almost snapped – he'd been tricked, much the way he'd come to trick Ven into damnation – but he held back.

“... This wasn't about pretending to be human. This was just a bad target. If you want, you can choose my next one.”

So long as he cared about Ven the same way he did now, where he couldn't get him off his mind no matter how hard he tried... He could try again with another soul. To keep Ven safe.

“I'm not done,” Vanitas sniped. “Didn't you know you'd take that chance from him, too, the moment he started to trust you? Damned or not, everyone you touch in this world is still going to be tainted. Cursed.”

As he glided in front of Terra, venom became conversational. “But that's just like your human life was, isn't it?”

Terra's hands curled into fists.

“... He hasn't felt tainted, and I've been on the lookout for it,” he forced himself to be even, to sound like Vanitas wasn't getting to him. “Maybe he's just that good.”

Manic, uncontrolled laughter burst from the other demon, sending Vanitas reeling backwards. “Are you going to tell me he's an angel next? That's just too pathetic, even for you.”

Terra turned his head away, feeling like he was boiling over. “I don't know, he could be.”

“You're killing me -” Vanitas almost shrieked with mirth, flipping over backwards to bring himself upright, right in Terra's face. His laughter stopped like someone had flipped a spiteful switch, and he spoke in ringing tones, “But you know... Not everyone's going to find it so funny. You're really going to take the punishment for your 'angel'?”

He had to be bluffing. “... What punishment?”

Despite not making any special effort to hide his glee, Vanitas played dumb and answered cryptically, “Even if you throw the catch back, someone's still gotta eat.”

With an air of finality, Vanitas backed off with a quirked eyebrow, descending from the air as though on invisible stairs.

Terra felt a phantom pain disrupt his steady heartbeat. Ven's heartbeat – he didn't have one of his own, and in latching to him, all the lump of dark matter in Terra's chest could do was match his.

“... I didn't stop just because I wanted to, I told you it's useless -”

“Go ahead and give up, then.” Vanitas walked carelessly backwards with his feet planted on the floor, putting a hand on the doorknob. “Until you claim him for real, he's fair game.”

Vanitas's fingers curled around the door handle, as though he intended to leave the human way, but instead vanished in a swirling storm of darkness. His omnipresent laughter took an unnaturally long time to echo into silence. Terra seethed, and waited for quiet.

Then he slammed a fist against the wall, leaving a large crack from the ceiling to the floor.

A howl of rage was stuck in his throat, escaping as a tight breath as Terra tried to steel himself. He couldn't let Vanitas claim him; any attempts he made wouldn't be nearly as pleasant as the months the two of them had spent together, building a bond Terra could extort.

Love had never a requirement, in corrupting Ven's soul. He only had to agree to be taken, and declare that he'd relinquish his human life, by any means necessary. A soul could be claimed by trust, by trickery, or by torment.

Terra had naively imagined that a soul given in love would be something less despicable, and the closest thing to kindness he could offer. Until he experienced being loved by Ven, and, as much as he was capable, loving him in return. He loved what Ven was – sweet, untainted and trusting as so few humans are, hard-working and loyal to a fault. The moment Terra realized that, he'd known that far from kind, this was the cruelest path he could have chosen.

But if Terra abandoned him now, Ven would be open to an attempt – an attack – from any of the Hellions to follow Terra's failure...

Vanitas was nearest, and a demon like no other.

The pain never stopped, for a demon. Not really. Being spat up from Hell only threw the agony of eternal fire into sharp relief, and the light from above made the darkness feel choking. Vanitas would do anything to allay that suffering... seemed to thrive that way.

Seemed to experience genuine delight, in fact, in inflicting similar torture on his victims. Terra's greatest fear had been to become like him in any way, but now, it was subjecting Ventus to that.

Succumbing to his desire to feed off ruining Ven was the ultimate in betrayal... But leaving him to Vanitas would be even worse.

Giving off an aura of gloom, Ven dragged his feet in the direction of home with his shoulders slumped and his heart heavy.

For the past few months, he'd shifted his whole world to revolve around Terra. Empty, lonely days had become filled with him – his conversation, his laughter, the way he'd genuinely cared about what Ven thought and wanted.

At least... it felt that way, at the time.

Had he just been totally off the mark?

He had no idea how to fill the absence from now on. Ven could only barely remember how he'd tried to fill his time, before, but none of his former activities held any appeal. They hadn't had much even back then.

Being busy had just been... It'd been better than being lonely.

And Ven would have to get used to that all over again. Loneliness.

... He'd miss Terra. He missed him already, had been missing him for weeks, but this was so much worse. Worrying he'd never see him again and knowing that he wouldn't, those were worlds apart.

Terra didn't want to see him anymore.

He must have done something wrong. Something to push Terra away, just as he'd been starting to think that he might...possibly...

Oh god. Maybe he'd been able to tell. Maybe he wanted to nothing more to do with Ven because he'd figured it out... And he hadn't felt the same way.

Ven screwed his stinging eyes shut.

The shadows he passed grew thick as they formed Terra's body, weaving together the skeletal base and building him from it. They became solid, two patches of burning amber cooling to blue.

Ven was too distraught to look back, and noticed nothing.

“Ven!” Terra ran to head him off, leaving the shade. “Wait -”

He turned so fast that he made himself dizzy, almost not believing his ears. He could only believe that Terra had run all the way after him – to explain? Maybe, to change his mind?

“Yeah?” Ven swallowed hard, and sounded hurt to compensate for hope. “What is it?”

Terra came to a stop and seized his shoulders, faintly winded. The short sprint hadn't done him in by any means – it was the horrible wrench of hunger. “... I don't want to stop seeing you. These past couple weeks...”

Every time he breathed, Ven's scent roused his need even more.

“I wanted to see you,” Terra confessed honestly. “I just didn't think I should.”

Alarmed by his intensity, it took Ven a second to process what his words meant. “What, but why shouldn't we see each other?”

It was the only chance he'd ever have to tell Ven the truth. And he couldn't take it.

Vanitas was probably watching.

“... I'm all wrong for you.”

Any lingering guardedness melted away. “How could you say that?”

Just like that, he'd broken down Ven's walls, and Terra hated himself for being able to do that. It bared his soul even more. “Because it's true. There are things you don't realize about me – I'm not...a good guy. Not good enough for you.”

If only Ven would believe him.

“Whatever it is, you can tell me. It can't be that bad.” In his distress, Ven started to pout, and Terra glanced briefly down at his lips.

He let go.

“You're...young, and you're innocent. I shouldn't want you the way I do.”

He felt a little sickened by himself. Nothing he said had been untrue. Terra should not have hungered for him... Shouldn't have cared about him...

Ven's eyes widened as he caught his meaning, or at least thought he had. It wasn't the truth, but it was the closest thing Terra could give him that might make him back away from this. Lusting after his body wasn't so different; both came down to taking him, more completely and intimately than anyone had before...

Bashfully, Ven started to smile. “If that's all... I'm not really that young, and I don't mind if you feel that way about me.”

Terra's eyes widened a little, lamenting that Vanitas was right. “... You don't?”

A little embarrassed but also relieved, Ven shook his head. “You don't have to be a good guy, just my friend. And you care about me, too, so you wouldn't hurt me. I know it.”

From a nearby tree, Vanitas laughed uproariously, falling from its cover. Terra ignored him, even though he felt a pang of real fear.

He'd been right. He was being watched, and that left him no choice.

“... I'm glad you trust me,” Terra said quietly.

Ven smiled, dazzling. “I'm glad you're not really going away.”

“... I wouldn't want to.”

“Ugh,” Vanitas threw his head back and sank to the ground.

Oblivious to his presence, Ven gazed up at Terra with a hint of redness to his cheeks. It put him at ease a little, knowing he hadn't done anything wrong, but most of all that he hadn't really lost his best friend.

“Will you walk home with me?” he requested, hopefully. He especially didn't want to be left alone, now.

“Sure... If you want.”

Terra took the hand being cautiously extended towards his, and hid his despair.

“Could you be any more boring?” Vanitas sneered, appearing at his side, now. “No wonder if took you so long to get this far.”

His fingers entwined with Ven's as he walked in step with him. Terra was determined to ignore Vanitas. If he was serious about this, he couldn't let on that anything more was wrong...

Ven may not have even noticed though, anyway. His joy was almost palpable, hand warm, and heart beating a half-step quicker. “If you want to stay for a bit, Dad won't mind. He likes you.”

Gliding alongside Terra, Vanitas taunted, “Ooh, are you going to get daddy's blessing before you honeymoon in Hell?”

“If I can... I'd like that,” Terra answered Ven, keeping his eyes on him.

He'd never felt like this in his presence, before. Like he could barely contain himself.

“You can stay for dinner at least,” Ven offered brightly, squeezing his hand a little. “There's always too much for just us.”

Terra made a soft sound of agreement, and they lapsed into a silence that was only comfortable on Ven's end.

“Wondering what he's thinking about, aren't you?” Unnecessarily, Vanitas dropped his voice to a whisper.

He hadn't been wondering. All Terra could think about at all were the things he'd be taking away from him – his father, his goals, the dojo. Everything he enjoyed.

“I can guess,” Vanitas was more than happy to keep up his commentary while Terra couldn't answer, anyway, and suddenly – impossibly – he sounded out of breath. “I bet...he's thinking about you touching him.”

Terra's eyes narrowed.

“He loves you, he must have imagined it,” the fake-panting hastened, more evident, “...and now he knows you want him.”

He never wanted to hear Ven's voice like that, not coming from Vanitas. He hated to think of him sounding needy and pleasured when it wasn't based on real love, when Terra had just manipulated him into wanting...

In that same voice, Vanitas moaned every word. “He's thinking of how you'd take him... Your big hands all over him, kissing his perfect, pretty skin... How you'd be so gentle with him, and just before you're inside him, you'd lean in and confess you love him, just like he loves you... He's thinking he wants you to make his first time special.”

Darkness started to creep up over the hand clasped with Ven's.

“He wants to,” Vanitas purred as though right in Terra's ear, even though he wasn't that close. “He wants you to fuck him like it's your wedding night.”

Terra bit the inside of his cheek to prevent himself from making a sound. His hand slipped out of Ven's.

Quizzically, Ven looked up to his face and let his hand drop to his side. He didn't ask any questions.

“You could still give him that, before this is over. Let him have that one night of happiness before the whole 'eternally damned' thing. It's the least you can do, really,” Vanitas crooned, drifting closer and whirling around Terra's body. He snuggled up against Terra's other arm, splayed along his chest. “Unless keeping him pure makes it sweeter for you.”

Terra managed to hate Vanitas even more than he loathed himself, for putting the thought into his head. No matter what he did, now, he'd feel sick and twisted for it.

“Think about it,” Vanitas breathed. “What's a little bit of sinning going to hurt him now, when it's his last chance to feel so good...”

Those last few words were drawn out, and Vanitas uncurled from around him. When he spoke again, it was back in his ear, directionless. “And when you taste his innocence, leaving his body for the very first time, giving it to you willingly, oh...”

Reeling back as though relishing the thought, Vanitas purred. “There's no other high like that in any world, trust me.”

The darkness snaked out possessively around Terra's hand, like it was trying to return to Ven, drawing his notice at last. Terra forcibly pulled it back into himself, stopping in his tracks.

“Terra?” Ven stopped, puzzled.

“Careful,” Vanitas warned, gleeful. “You don't want him to see anything's wrong, do you?”

He swallowed slightly. Terra would just... He'd wait. He'd let Ven decide if that was what he wanted, unprompted, and acquiesce no matter what he chose. It was the least messed up way to go about things, until he could work himself up to...damning him.

“... Nothing. It's nothing...”

“Was I walking too fast?” Ven just looked confused, simply and innocently. Unfairly unaware.

Despite himself, Terra was composed. He wasn't even shaking, despite the feeling under his skin – like literal vibration, of rage. “Just got caught up thinking. That's all.”

“Well, don't just bottle it up 'til you explode. You can tell me what you're thinking about,” Ven prompted.

“Please do,” Vanitas sneered, reclining with his arms behind his head.

Terra was beginning to wonder if Vanitas truly was punishment for taking so long. If his maker, Xehanort, was displeased at how long this was taking... It wouldn't be at all beyond him to torture Terra in some manner.

And this was proving to be a very effective means of it.

“I was just thinking about...how we met.”

Ven started to smile again. “Oh, yeah?”

“I'd just come to the city, and your father's dojo was the first place I went, looking for something familiar,” Terra resumed walking beside him, eyes downcast. “... I could've gone anywhere, but finding a new place to train seemed like the most important thing at the time. Didn't want to get complacent, or restless. And, if I hadn't thought so... I might not have met you, the most important thing to me now.” He spoke more quietly, drawing him in his volume alone, and lied through his teeth. “It kind of feels like fate. Like a big cosmic coincidence, that led me to you.”

Terra had been manipulating it all from the beginning. He couldn't stop.

And now Ven was reddening, wishing he could hold Terra's hand again. Vanitas clapped, loud and slow, right over Ven as he talked.

“I think so, too. Ever since you started coming to the dojo, my life's just gotten better. And every day you're in it makes me happy,” Ven almost glowed. “It's like a miracle.”

Terra wondered, bitterly, what it would feel like to hear this if he were still human. He didn't think anything in the world would've made him happier. “... I guess we're both lucky.”

Ven nodded. “You know-... I told you how when Eraqus adopted me, I was too sick to go to school anymore? Then by the time I was strong enough, I'd have been way older than the people in my grade, and he thought I'd get picked on, so he kept homeschooling me instead. ... For a long time, all I had was the dojo, and him, but not any friends. I thought it'd be like that forever.” He smiled up at him. “Now I have you.”

“He really is just the most precious thing, isn't he?” Vanitas sounded bitter through his mockery. “A soul as delicious as his is wasted on you.”

At least they could agree on that much.

“I only wish I'd met you sooner,” Terra murmured. Before it was too late for him, and too late for Ven as well...

“I don't mind. As long as we have time together now,” Ven twisted his hands together. “Just... When you said we couldn't see each other anymore, it was-... I was so scared things would go back to the way they were before. I don't want that...”

Vanitas made a sound of contemplation. “Hm, corrupt him, or break his heart and condemn him to a life of loneliness – what's it gonna be?”

“... Ven, you'll never have to be alone again. Not if I can help it.”

“Thought so,” Vanitas muttered.

Ven's pace slowed to a gradual stop, and Terra let him take hold of both of his hands. He tried to look at him with love, and not sorrow.

“That's all I want. I...” he hesitated, blush darkening.

Terra wanted to kiss him, just once, while he could pretend this was normal. “... Ven?”

“I've never gone out with anyone before,” he admitted, embarrassed. “I'm not sure how to ask...”

“Here's the part where you get down on one knee and ask him to be your Hell-bride.”

Despite Vanitas, and despite this having been his aim from the beginning, Terra found himself flustered. “... Could I just kiss you?”

With a quick nod, Ven tilted his head up hopefully. Terra placed his hands on his shoulders and leaned down, tender and strong at the same time – he knew exactly how Ven wanted to be kissed without even needing to think about it, Ven's desires being everything that formed him. He could feel his heart flutter as Terra overwhelmed him with affection, and Ven started to follow his lead in kissing back.

“You could do it now,” Vanitas whispered, but Terra wrapped his arms around Ventus in protective refusal.

He was tempted. Honestly tempted.

But he just wanted this one thing to be real, between them. Even if he was trying to tell him, without telling him, that he was sorry. Even if Ven was missing that message and only feeling warmth and light.

Slowly, Terra drew away. Ven was practically radiant, smiling at him with genuine love.

“I'm still waiting for him to sprout wings and a halo,” Vanitas jeered.

For a moment... Terra had actually thought he might, and wished that he had. So many times, he'd thought there was something honestly divine about him, that he could feel Heaven's glow repelling and drawing him in equal parts. His own affection had just been coloring his view.

Terra cupped his cheek gently, and kissed his forehead. “Let's keep going...”

“It'd be pretty weird to stand out here kissing all day,” Ven nodded with a little laugh.

“Yes,” Vanitas watched them join hands again, Ventus leading the way back to his house. “Don't make him wait.”

“I don't want you to think I expect anything.”

Ven had just bade his father goodnight with a promise that they wouldn't be staying up too late. Dinner had been a guilt-ridden affair, Terra mostly quiet among the conversation and warm atmosphere. Eraqus hadn't seemed at all surprised to see Ventus being more openly affectionate with him, and expressed his trust in Terra almost soothingly.

Trust he didn't deserve. Eraqus was a good man, one who'd earned Terra's admiration. How had he fooled him, too?

He was being allowed to stay with Ven, tonight, after explaining that his living situation had become tumultuous. He was hand-in-hand with him now, the door to the bedroom shut, the blush that Ven struggled to contain peeking through despite his efforts.

Inadvertently, Terra found himself thinking that what Vanitas had said was right. He could at least make Ven as happy as possible, for one night. He'd make everything entirely about what Ven wanted.

Provided he did want it, at all.

“But...” Ven looked cautious, as though he was the one afraid to scare Terra off. “You do want to, right?”

He couldn't lie. “... I want you.”

From atop the dresser, like he'd been there the entire time, Vanitas formed in a shroud of shadow. “He has no idea how badly you want him...”

“Then I can kiss you again?” Ventus was quiet, timid, but Terra could feel the want there.

He wasn't hesitating. He wasn't second-guessing. Ven wanted this, and he'd comply. Their lips met, and Ven felt hotter right off the bat, the knowledge that this was leading somewhere making everything intense even though they'd started slow.

Terra picked him up smoothly, hitching Ven up around his waist – he made a sound that was as much surprise as it was delight – and the kiss was still soft despite the boldness of that move. Terra held him up firmly, effortlessly, and Ven had no fear of being dropped. His legs held securely around his waist and he threw his arms around Terra's shoulders, just to get closer.

“Well, that takes a lot of trust,” Vanitas observed pointedly. Terra carried Ven over to the bed, lowering him carefully. He didn't want to break the kiss for anything, though, deepening it as Ven desired... So he moved over him, making Ven smile against his lips. His hands ran up Terra's muscular arms with a small, pleased noise.

Vanitas spoke delicately, from everywhere. His soft voice didn't just seem to come from his direction – it was all around, filling up Terra's head. “You want to do so many things to him right now. You want to peel him apart and expose every sweet little piece for yourself. You want to bite into him and taste the sinew that holds him together, drink down that fragile spark of life, and make him yours...”

It was all true. There was an itching around his gums, his teeth wanting to grow sharp, and the darkness needed to be contained all the more vigilantly.

But more than that, Terra wanted to cherish him. Delight him. He slid one arm underneath Ven to keep him close, shielding him with his body. Ventus's nose gently bumped against his in the process, and he laughed breathlessly.

Vanitas made a sound of disgust, but switched tactics. “You know, the more alive, the more loved you make him feel, the sweeter he'll smell to you.”

Again, he wasn't wrong. For months, and now especially, Ven's scent had become intoxicating. Terra grinned faintly, lips drifting up to press against his cheek.

Then his lips drifted down, to the point of his pulse.

“Oh...” Ven's heartbeat picked up, the thrill so sudden it was almost like fear until he remembered that it was Terra, that he was safe.

It thrummed so nicely under Terra's lips that he wanted to tear it out and hold the heartbeat against his own chest, somehow. He mouthed over that spot, adoring it, and inhaled deeply.

“You'll taste it in your throat until it's in every nerve,” Vanitas's voice was low and sultry again, “...everything you are will be screaming at you, and you won't be able to resist... But you've already started to feel it, haven't you?”

Carefully, Terra drew his free arm back to run his hand down Ven's side. He'd tilted his throat, letting Terra do more, tasting sweet where there should have been salt. Subtle, and tempting.

“What do you want me to do...?”

Ven was tingling everywhere. He sat up a little, struggled to vocalize something so embarrassing. “Um... Should we take stuff off first?”

Terra nodded, “I'll...”

Sitting up on his knees and flanking him, Terra smoothly stripped off his shirt to toss aside. Ven's eyes went a little wide, traveling up his legs to his bare chest before finding his face. Terra grinned slightly – he honestly didn't care so much for this flesh, until Ven looked at him like that.

“He looks like he'd like to eat you,” Vanitas's eyes glittered. “It's nice that you have that in common.”

As though snapping out of a spell, Ven blinked and broke his gaze with another small laugh. “I should probably do that, too...”

Sitting up properly brought Ven very close to Terra's chest. He ran his hands carefully over Ven, hesitating at the hem of his shirt.

“Can I...?”

“Yeah, go ahead...” Tentatively, he raised his arms, helping Terra ease it up and remove it.

“Now here's where you tell him he's beautiful.”

To spite Vanitas, Terra dropped the shirt and ghosted his hands over his torso as though mapping him out, trying to tell him that without words. Ven gently drew his own lip between his teeth, hands dropping to the bedcovers to ease himself back again.

He really was beautiful. So deliciously trusting.

Terra shifted backwards a little, giving himself more room to descend and dapple soft kisses across his chest. If not for the stillness of the room, he might not have heard Ven moan quietly. He was warm and receptive to Terra, no matter what he was doing, but he wanted more just as much as he wanted it to go on forever.

Vanitas sounded unimpressed. “You're going to make this take all night, aren't you?”

He kind of wanted to do just that. Making Ven wait seemed cruel, though, and his pleasure was Terra's priority – his hands spread wide and traveled from his hips up to his sides, firm without being hard or harsh. Languidly, he sucked at spots beneath his collarbone, over his heart.

Ven's breathing picked up as he moved lower. Then, suddenly, he broke into giggles as Terra mouthed over his stomach. Terra grinned.

“Terra...!” his whine didn't sound particularly like protest, through his laughter.

Having mercy, he relented and slid down further. “I had a feeling you were ticklish,” he teased, and kissed the bare skin at his hip just above his pants. Ven's giggles died down and he hissed softly, propping himself up to watch with obvious anticipation.

“That was mean,” Ven shivered.

“Yeah! Are you trying to bone this kid or babysit him?”

“Sorry...” Terra sat up enough to kiss him, and Ven would have been let down that he wasn't progressing if the kiss weren't so pacifying.

“Mn...”

With one hand, Terra seized the opportunity to slowly unbutton his pants. Ven's heart practically skipped a beat.

He thought he would've been more nervous, getting this far... But everything about Terra was too comforting to work up to it, and every shallow breath or prickle under his skin was from want. He brushed through Terra's hair, returning the thorough kiss until a sharp inhale parted his lips.

His fly had been worked open, but Terra was still working up to it. He hand had run down and lightly squeezed his thigh, and just that simple action had sent a shock through his anticipatory buzz, sensitive from it.

Terra's hand massaged its way higher. Every spike in Ven's body heat, every beat of his heart felt like his own – Ven raised his hips hopefully, aching to be touched and halfway hard.

Catching one belt loop, Terra worked his pants down over his hips until it was enough. He slipped one hand in to wrap around the shaft, and felt more breathless than ever before, a little drugged on shared pleasure. Ven closed his eyes with a tiny hitch, unable to remember ever feeling so hot in his life.

“... Ven...”

“He likes that...” Vanitas's whisper was heavier, against his ear. Terra had almost managed to forget Vanitas even existed, and didn't care one way or the other about the reminder.

Everything was Ven. He stroked him, kissed him with increasing desperation as Ven's arms wrapped around his shoulders and his legs strained against his pants, trapped by them. He wanted to part them around Terra, he wanted to get closer, Terra could feel it -

“You can feel how much he wants you...” Vanitas was almost hushed, drawn in as he watched.

Terra didn't technically need to ask, but... “Ven... Can I take them off you?”

“Yeah... That's okay,” he agreed, breathless. “What about...?”

Ven gestured to Terra's, and he sat up; of course, equal ground, and Ven wanted to see.

“Yeah... I will...”

He managed to get up off the bed smoothly, showing no embarrassment even as Ven watched with great interest. Terra let his clothing fall, body designed to appeal in every proportion. Ven marveled at him, shivering involuntarily.

“You're-...” he stopped, blushing darker. His breathing was uneven.

“I'll never understand human taste,” Vanitas's eyes raked him, too.

Shaking his head slightly, Terra moved back onto the bed. “... You're the most beautiful person I've ever seen...”

“Finally.”

Apparently defeated by the compliment, Ven could only kiss back when Terra's lips pressed to his, but he didn't wait to deepen it. Ven needed, and he made it tremendously clear.

Terra started to remove Ven's pants.

Neither one of them broke the kiss until Terra had to tear himself away, needing the space to strip him the rest of the way. Everything was taken off, thrown aside, and Ven was perfect and smooth – Terra got a brief, violently compelling image of continuing, of stripping off his skin, of burying himself inside his entire body and taking everything -

Terra stared, and Ven suddenly worried that something was wrong. “Terra...?”

“Is it too much for you already?” Vanitas grimaced, like he was disappointed in him. “I knew you were weak.”

It wasn't too much. Terra swallowed slightly.

“... You're sure you want this?”

Ven sounded amused. “I'm way more than sure.”

“Not going to back out now, are you?”

Terra tried to look relaxed, even if he wasn't yet. He leaned over him, alert to every part of Ven's body, and sought his lips before his fingertips grazed his cock. Ven almost cooed into the kiss when he started to stroke, reaching up to feel the firm lines of Terra's shoulders, sides – anywhere within reach.

“Good,” Vanitas purred. “That's what I thought.”

Terra moaned softly, guiding Ven's legs apart and around him. Ven lay back more to accommodate the slight stretch comfortably, eased right back down to the bed.

Hands roving down Ven's arms, Terra broke the kiss and hated himself for what he was about to ask.

“Do you trust me?”

“Of course he does,” Vanitas breathed, in the same moment that Ven met his eyes and replied, “Of course I do.”

Terra wanted to tell him that he shouldn't.

“... Just lie back like this...” Terra pressed himself up, moving down between his legs.

“Okay...” he was at once both curious and anxious, but he trusted that he wanted whatever Terra planned to do. He thought he was proven correct when a large hand wrapped around the base, Terra placing a gentle kiss to the crown. Ven's breath stuttered, Terra's name falling from his lips, but that wasn't where he settled.

Terra lifted Ven's leg a little to prompt his hips to move, enough to give him access, and slowly trailed his tongue over his entrance.

Ven shivered, moan ringing out, and he barely managed to keep his hips up. “Th-that feels...”

One hand was still around his cock and Terra stroked him slowly, keeping him steady with his other – he could feel Ven's arousal in his own gut and he was getting dizzy off it. He tongued him experimentally, getting off all the more with him writhing; Ven couldn't keep still for more than a few seconds at a time, arching and twitching.

“Mmn-...”

Terra almost hummed, working him open, and Ven groaned brokenly. It was loud, and sudden, and he covered his mouth for fear of being any louder. The feeling was a bit strange, slick muscle pressing into him, but he was caught up in the heat and intimacy and mounting pleasure – he didn't doubt, he didn't want Terra to stop.

Vanitas reappeared from the shadows, hovering over the bed and observing, “You've got him totally at your mercy.”

Terra was too wrapped up in Ven to register anything but more of his voice, even though Ven wasn't the actual speaker. His tongue curled inside of him, stroking him faster, and Ven failed to stifle a little cry. His hips rocked up, but Terra managed to keep him still enough.

Vanitas frowned, wanting to aggravate, wanting Terra's suffering to be more obvious. “He'd probably do anything you asked him too, right now, if it meant feeling more of this...”

Terra moved his tongue as though thrusting, his thumb sliding over the weeping slit. He wanted to keep Ven in this state forever, only better, and more, and Ven was whimpering his name like it was the sweetest word he'd ever known.

Everything from the waist up fell flat to the mattress and Ven was trembling all through his legs. Vanitas rolled his eyes, and disappeared again. Terra didn't even notice. He pulled back, gently eased Ven's hips down, and swallowed his cock in one smooth motion.

Ven only just managed to muffle himself. The moan vibrated loud in his throat, regardless, and Terra followed suit.

His moan was felt, and Ven gripped a handful of sheets. “Mm!”

Terra sucked steadily, a little harder, becoming possessed by the need to taste him – he was ambrosial, pleasure and love and trust all so sweet that Terra needed to swallow it down, swallow all of him until there was nothing left -

“Ngh...” Ven urged shakily, “Wait-...”

He almost didn't. He wanted this so badly that he almost couldn't bring himself to stop, overheated and hungry – but this wasn't for himself. This was for Ven. Ven asked him to wait...

“Mn...” Terra slowly pulled back. “Ah...”

Ven stared at his face for a couple of seconds, forgetting entirely what he was about to say.

Stroking him slowly – he couldn't just stop touching him, completely – Terra met his eyes and tried to control his voice, keep it steady. “Ven...?”

“That feels really nice, but if you keep going I'm gonna-...” Blushing, flustered, still enraptured, Ven tried rephrasing. “We're not going to be able to go any further.”

“Do you want-...? It might be uncomfortable... I'd be gentle, but I only want to make you feel good,” he kissed Ven's knee lightly. “I never want you to hurt...”

Ven bit his lip, and nodded once. “I want to,” he said, and then went quieter. “I love you.”

“There it is,” Vanitas relished, triumphant. It almost took Terra out of the moment completely.

But... Ventus loved him, no matter the reason, regardless of whether or not it was because everything Terra was was a lie. If he forgot about that, just for a second...

Terra moved over him, pulled him close to hold. “... I love you... I can't remember what it was like before I loved you...”

There had been hellfire, pain, anguish. Misery and betrayal and darkness, so much darkness. Ven...honestly made him forget.

Vanitas reappeared as though sitting on the bed next to them. “This is a truly moving performance,” he sniped silkily.

“M'so glad,” Ven clung to him, as hard as he could.

“You can't hope for a better time than this.”

Briefly, Terra saw only dark, the sweet perfume of him making him moan. “... Do you have, um... Is there lotion or anything?”

Embarrassment eked through. Ven covered his face with his hands, speaking between his fingers. “In my desk drawer.”

“Pathetic,” Vanitas drifted upwards again.

“I'll...” Terra reached for it. “Nn, lie back...”

Perhaps assuaged by the lack of comment or teasing, Ven settled onto his back and let this wash over him – he practically glowed with happiness, forgetting to be nervous.

Finding the lubrication, Terra only hesitated for a second before starting to slick his fingers. Without ever having done this before, he knew what to do and how to make this go smoothly, but that didn't stop him from worrying anyway.

He really did want this to be perfect. It already was close to it, affection practically bleeding out of Ven as he sought to meet Terra's eyes. His want hung in the air like a heavy perfume, and it wasn't affecting only Terra, anymore...

“Nn, he is tempting, isn't he? Any more of that and I might not be able to resist taking a bite...” Vanitas swooped low over Ven's chest. Terra moved right over him to get as close as possible, and shut Vanitas out.

Without being able to look, he had to probe a little for Ven's entrance, but only for a moment. He slid one warm, slick finger into him, and Ven inhaled sharply. He was too relaxed for it to be uncomfortable for long, even if just the single digit was a surprising stretch – his hands were so big...

“Mm...”

“Okay?” Terra asked, hushed.

Ven moaned in response.

“... I love the way you sound...” Carefully, Terra curled his finger. Ven wet his lips and nuzzled into Terra's neck, reaching up to hold him. The earlier fervor hadn't died so much as settled to a wonderful smolder, and he rocked his finger gently into Ven to get a sense for what he could take. He sort of knew already, regardless.

Vanitas circled vulture-like over the bed, waiting for an opening or sign of hesitation, but he wasn't going to get one. Ven was adjusting gradually, never once in pain, and every moan carried more bliss than the last. Terra knew when he could take a second finger and held him even more protectively as he gingerly pressed it in.

He couldn't remember why he'd ever hesitated, he wanted Ven so badly... Terra's own gasps and groans were almost as loud as Ven's, which he adored. Ven loved the sound and feel of him, even as the second finger became a strain. Ever-so-slightly, blunt nails dug into his arms.

“Ah...”

“Nngh...” Terra almost shuddered. “You're perfect, you're doing so well... Let me know if I need to slow down, if I hurt you...”

Ven almost swelled with happiness. “I'm okay... Just need to get used to it...”

“Yes, don't break the toy,” Vanitas mocked, “he's so delicate, after all.”

“I want to make this so good for you,” Terra murmured, and slowly pressed his fingers in at a different angle – he knew how to make him feel good, if not why. Whatever he'd done had most certainly been right.

“A-ah,” Ven arched up, flooded with heat by the pressure against his prostate. Terra briefly teetered on the brink of ecstasy, overwhelmed and fascinated.

He never went still, trying to prepare Ven as well as please him. The stretch was constant and not-unpleasant, Terra's fingers thick enough that he hardly needed further preparation. Shivering, Ven came back down to the bed, opening up to him and Terra knew almost immediately when he could take more.

Still, he was thorough. He didn't want to make Ven feel rushed. Terra was shaky when he ventured, “If you're ready... Could I...”

Another flash of heat surged through Ven when he realized how much Terra was holding back, if not why. “... Yeah...”

Terra closed his eyes for a moment, slowly drawing his fingers out.

Then it occurred to him belatedly. “Condoms-...”

“O-oh, um...” Ven sat up a little, though doing so drew his attention to the slight ache emptiness left. “I didn't plan ahead that much, really...”

“... I've never, uh. I mean, if you're okay with not using one...”

“I've never, either, so...it should be okay, right?”

Terra nodded, grinning faintly despite some slight trepidation. It wasn't as though anything would have made sleeping together any less safe. “Yeah... I'll...”

As he grabbed the lube to slick himself, Ven changed a peek down. He hadn't really allowed himself a look, yet.

“I really expected him to be more shy about this,” Vanitas commented, eyes dark and wide. “He must really like you...”

Terra ignored him, making sure he was slick with a small sound. He didn't experience any pleasure in touching himself, but he was still picking up on Ven's.

Ven tugged him the rest of the way down when he was finished, kissing him adoringly. Terra moaned quietly, shifting their positioning just a little, and guided himself inside. Ven broke off the kiss with a soundless moan, only a little choked breath even audible.

He was so warm, under him, and around him, and there was unnatural heat at his back as Vanitas pressed flush against him and whispered into his ear, “Look at that, you actually did it...”

But it was Ven's voice, and hot, hungry need. Terra groaned, gripping the pillow hard to keep himself steady as he filled him deeper – little whimpers and gasps escaped Ven, so sweetly, as he went. Those beautiful blue eyes shut tightly, smooth legs parting more and ending up with them around Terra's hips.

And Vanitas wasn't taunting him anymore, but spurring him on. Terra could feel hot hands roaming over his chest and shoulders, and Vanitas echoed Ven's moans so they were all around him, much closer than they should be.

His thrusts were gradual and shallow to start, letting Ven get used to it and almost burying himself in his hair. The scent of him now was like some kind of drug spreading through his entire body.

“Terra...”

“You could do it...” Vanitas mewled, heated. “Do it now... He feels so complete now, might not even notice...”

Terra wasn't even tempted. All he wanted was for Ven to have more of this. Ventus groped blindly for one of his hands to hold onto and he gave, squeezing in return.

Ven arched up into his chest, finding that he could rock his hips a fraction to meet his thrusts. Terra let the pace build naturally, unconsciously going deeper as things got faster, Ven's fingers and legs tightening every time he hit some spot inside. He was becoming so overwhelmed with intimacy and affection that Ven almost forgot he was chasing orgasm, too – this was good, this was everything he'd ever wanted.

Vanitas groaned, and it wasn't like Ven's anymore, affected by the both of them. He was panting with hunger when he spoke again, “At least let me test drive him for a bit, come on, wouldn't have to hold back with me in there...”

The only thing that mattered about anything Vanitas said was that his breaths sounded like him. Still, Terra could hear Ven louder than anything – he could hear his heartbeat.

Maybe Terra was only imagining that.

Yet, it lulled the last of his guilt away.

“Ngh... Ah, Ven...”

“M-mm...” Ventus bit down on his lip, mindful of his volume again, but that was all he had in him. He trembled too hard to keep moving with him, and instead he tilted his hips to let Terra just take.

Vanitas panted, glazed, starting to sink his claws into Terra's flesh. “You two are like ecstasy, ngh-...”

He could feel the sting without the skin being broken. Terra was too far gone for it to do anything but heighten the sensation that was already there, all around him, inside of him. His thrusts were steady, getting faster, he groaned Ven's name because it was the only word he remembered. The only one that meant anything.

Ven's moans became less contained, sinking into a haze as pleasure mounted higher. He ached a little but strangely, he didn't mind it, he was too overwhelmed by friction and intensity – Terra felt it in every part of him when Ven's climax slipped ever-closer, fabricated nerves practically singing, and he had to hold back from taking everything but he could only barely do that -

“Nn, I love you-... Ven...”

Ven responded in kind, but it was too muffled by heavy breathing to be comprehensible. He turned his head towards their joined hands, unsure whose knuckles he bit into bluntly, and Vanitas's unseen claws sank right through Terra and held on deep inside his chest.

Ven was numb to everything but the rush in his abdomen as he clung to the very edge of orgasm, but Terra wasn't. Terra felt Ventus's teeth and Vanitas's claws and groaned, loud, and something snapped deep inside.

Ven moaned just as loud, spilling hard between them, Vanitas's growl of delight lost somewhere in the clamor. Terra didn't reach a physical orgasm – he wasn't sure his body was even capable – but the rush was so gratifying and intense that he couldn't help but shudder, pleasure peaking and flooded with warmth -

And instinct told him he could have it all, right now, that Hell could open up beneath them and swallow them both and all either of them would feel was bliss.

“Now...” Vanitas hissed.

Ven was still panting, pleasantly boneless, and Terra came back to himself. He fought the hunger by shoving it far beneath the satisfaction and adoration, kissing Ven's forehead.

“... Mm...”

Half-opening his eyes, Ven grinned up at him and murmured, “Thank you...” without being totally sure why.

Vanitas extracted himself sharply, leaving a hollow pain behind. “Ugh. You're just too weak.”

Terra was too smug to care. He'd bested Vanitas, he'd beaten his own nature – if nothing else, he had that. “You never have to thank me, for anything...”

“I know... I just wanted to.”

Vanitas disappeared without another word, but Terra could still smell him. He hadn't gone far. He held onto Ven, not ever wanting to let him go, but reluctantly had to acknowledge that he would become uncomfortable sooner or later. Besides, he wanted to kiss him again, and out of consideration... “I should get cleaned up, bring back a cloth... You're okay?”

Ventus nodded, stretching his arms up over his head. “I'm really tired, though. How are you?”

“Never been better,” he answered honestly. Ven laughed quietly, content.

“That makes two of us.”

Terra got up with a fond grin, looking for his pants. “Can I get you anything at all?”

“Mm...” there was the slightest discomfort when Terra pulled away, and then Ven recovered. “Pyjamas, maybe?”

“I'll be right back, then...” Terra almost laughed. “Probably shouldn't put them on when you're still a bit of a mess...”

“Yeah,” he grinned, sitting up just a little. “Could you be quick? I'm scared Dad might have heard us...”

Terra tied his pants. “I was planning on it...but mostly because I don't like leaving you.”

Grinning, Ven closed his eyes again and settled back, heart soaring. The door softly clicked closed, and as promised, Terra wasn't gone for very long. He brought a damp washcloth with him, and wore a sheepish look.

“I...can't tell if your father heard or not.”

Ventus bit his lip, a little too giddy to be ashamed. “If he did, I'll hear about it tomorrow.”

“I'll apologize to him at breakfast...” Terra knelt by him, clearing his throat. “Unless he didn't hear.”

Gently, he started to clean Ven off, the cloth soft and gratifying. Ven kept still, watching Terra and rather enjoying the look of embarrassment on his face.

“At least he won't pretend he doesn't know or anything. He'll probably want to have a 'man-to-man' talk with you.”

“I really hope he doesn't,” Terra looked a little mortified by the prospect.

“He's really not that bad,” Ven grinned, biting back a laugh. “He won't make you marry me or something.”

Terra cleared his throat again, forcibly reminded of Vanitas calling Ven his 'Hell-bride'. “... I-I'll get you pyjamas,” he got up and put the cloth in the laundry basket, visibly flustered.

Longingly, he wondered what it would be like if they could...

Murmuring thanks, Ven wrapped his arms around a pillow and watched Terra find him comfortable clothes, openly admiring. Terra looked to be seeking out the comfiest pyjamas Ven owned – it was a tiny gesture but it made Ven feel warm.

Terra brought them over and climbed back into bed, giving him a brief, minty kiss. Ven accepted and wriggled into them while moving from his spot as little as possible.

They snuggled together, Ven pulling the blankets over them, and listening to the heart beat in Terra's chest. It was in perfect time with his own.

“... Terra...”

“Hm?”

He was almost whispering. “I've heard people talk about, you know, the first time. They said it's never really special, and usually it doesn't even feel good...”

Reflexively, Terra worried. “Really?”

“Mn,” Ven nodded, nuzzling his chest in the process, a smile spreading across his face. “But this wasn't like that at all. This was perfect.”

He relaxed again. “... It really was...”

So he'd done it right.

At least he'd done this single thing right by Ven.

“I'm happy you liked it, too,” Ven murmured sleepily. Terra wrapped his arms around him properly.

“I loved it...” his voice dropped, becoming almost inaudible. “I love you.”

And that was real, and true. It in no way made up for what he was going to do to Ven, but... At least Ven might know, for now, that he was adored.

Vanitas watched them fall asleep entwined, covetous hunger lighting every nerve afire.

He let Ven have twenty-four hours of happiness, to feel like he was loved and like everything could go right. Every scrap of Terra's human life had been dispersed, and there wasn't a material trace of him left on the world. No belongings, no records. Ventus, wrapped up in contentment and his new relationship, hadn't noticed. There'd been no reason for him to.

Over the past day, Terra had been hyper-vigilant, watching for Vanitas. He was waiting for more accusations, more threats. Surely he thought that Terra wasn't going to go through with it, now.

But he knew better. That choice wasn't his own. He just... He didn't want the end to come too abruptly. He wanted to see Ven enjoy life, while he had it.

And, every so often, Terra had moments where he could convince himself that this wouldn't be so terrible. That maybe he could find a way for them to be together in Hell.

He asked Ven if they could go to the dojo on their own, and Ven hadn't hesitated in the slightest over a harmless bit of rule-bending. Sneaking in to the place they'd met struck him as romantic, and that was the only reason why Ventus didn't bother to ask questions, either. If it was a surprise, he didn't want to ruin it by being nosy.

Darkness occasionally seeped from the hand wrapped around Ven's, retreating before it could be seen, but almost lashing out after him when Ven took his hand away. Removing the extra set of keys Eraqus had entrusted him with, Ven opened the door to the main entrance. It wasn't scheduled to open until the evening – they had the place to themselves for a little while.

Terra took a deep breath. His scent was so light and sweet.

“Just a second...” Ven stepped out of his shoes and turned on the hall lights, dashing from room to room to turn them all on.

“You know you missed your only chance to do it without hurting him,” Vanitas derided in Terra's ear.

“This isn't your business,” Terra slipped off his shoes, speaking under his breath. “I'm doing this, now, you can leave us alone.”

“I can feel that. I'm here to watch the show.”

Vanitas's presence pulled back and spread into the shadows, location no longer so easy to pinpoint. Ven called out, returning to the hall.

“So we can use any of the rooms. If that's what you want,” he gazed at Terra, privately hoping to pry the reason for being here from him now.

“... Here, let's...” Terra walked forward and took his hand again, directing them to the largest room Eraqus taught classes in. They'd met, here – something about the symmetry felt right, to Terra, even if what he was doing was wrong. He slid the paper door closed after them. “... There's something I need to talk to you about.”

A mite of worry started to squirm and nestle its way into Ven's delirious contentment. “What is it...?”

“It's...complicated.” Terra turned to him and took Ven's other hand, holding onto them both. “I need to know... No. I need you to know, first. I would do anything I could, for you.”

“I know,” Ven blinked, not even hesitating over his response.

Terra kept his eyes on his, something clenching in his gut when he realized he could see the thrall in them. “... If I asked you to do something for me... If I needed you to come with me. Would you?”

Ven started to smile in a completely uncomprehending fashion. “Well, sure I'd like to go somewhere with you, but it it's gonna take more than a day trip, I have to tell Dad...”

It would have been easiest to laugh. To lie. But Terra quietly clarified, “That's not what I'm saying. I have to go somewhere, Ven. Not a day trip, not anywhere that I could ever come back from. And I want to bring you with me.”

He still didn't understand. Ven was still smiling, though now it looked more knowing, kind of amused. “You know I'm still too young to move away, and Dad definitely wouldn't say yes to that.”

“He's not going to get it unless you spell it out,” Vanitas's whisper carried from somewhere in the room. “Show him.”

No – he had to make him understand without him seeing, Ven could never see him that way -

“I will never be able to see you again,” Terra's grip tightened, and Ven's smile started to fade. “This isn't about moving away. This isn't my choice. Unless you come with me... We'll never be together again.”

They both knew that Terra wouldn't joke about something like that. Worried by the words and all the more by Terra avoiding his gaze, he demanded, “Why? Where are you going?”

“... Like I said... It's complicated.”

He'd messed it up, he should have lied, he was only making it worse...

Terra glanced back at him. “... But you could come with me. I couldn't promise that you'd ever see your father again... And you'd be leaving your current life completely. But you'd have me, and I know, I will never stop loving you.”

Nervous now, Ven looked away from Terra's face and stared over his shoulders, as though something behind him would make sense of this. “I don't understand. Why can't you just tell me where you're going and then we can talk about it?”

Vanitas was laughing at him. “You know, you're really not selling this very well.”

Good, he wanted Ven to say no...

But he quashed that. It was too late to backtrack, way too late for falsehoods. “... There are things you don't know about me. Things I can't even explain.”

The feeling that something about this was very wrong kept nagging at Ven, but no part of him could believe that Terra was untrustworthy. Regardless, he started to pull away, and it pained Terra to let him.

“Terra... I love you, but I can't give you an answer to something like that if I don't know where you're going, or why you can't come back...” his eyes were wide with apprehension. “Is something going on? Or...did you...do something?”

Dragging a hand up over his face, Terra wracked his brain. Tried desperately to think of anything that wouldn't prove Vanitas right.

... But, better to prove him right than to fail, and let him spring.

“... Ven...” Terra's control ebbed back, darkness starting to curl around his hands. “... I'm not human.”

A look of blank disbelief wiped all other emotion from Ven's face. He took another step back.

“I shouldn't even exist on this plane,” Terra couldn't look at him, darkness slowly consuming his flesh body. “I wouldn't have... If it weren't for you.”

Ven stared, too nakedly confused for fear to register. “Terra, I don't-... What is this?”

He shook his head. “It's fine if you don't believe me... The only thing I actually care about is that you believe I love you. And that I want you to come with me.”

It was still Terra, through the darkness. His eyes were still blue, his face was still handsome. Terra forced himself to glance up.

“... I only need you to say 'yes'.”

Vanitas snorted, carelessly. “The sad thing is, he's really going to buy the 'I love you' bit.”

He had to believe that, Terra begged no one. It was probably the last honest thing he'd ever say.

Ven was unable to bring himself any closer, trying to take it in even as a sense of total unreality stole over him. “... If I go with you... What'll happen to me?”

Lying came more easily than Terra would've ever expected, knowing what he must say but not what would actually become of him.

“We'll be together. Always. But it comes at a cost and I can't just...take you with me. I almost want to. But this has to be your choice.”

“Liar,” Vanitas hissed, taunting.

“So...” he began slowly, thinking. “If I want to be with you forever, I can't stay here or see my Dad ever again?”

He sounded oddly detached. It made it difficult to read which he was favoring.

Terra hoped he'd choose Eraqus and home. “... I'm sorry.”

Ven hesitated. “... Is that the cost, or is there something more?”

“Only eternal torment, probably,” Vanitas sneered. “I wouldn't know, never done it.”

“Honestly... I don't know what will happen. I can't guarantee you'll be happy, I don't even know if you'll love me for that long -”

“Don't say that,” he protested immediately. He was still staring, taking in the darkness and experiencing a thrill of fear at long last...

But he still saw Terra there, too. “I love you, no matter what you are.”

“Aw, that's touching,” Vanitas's lip curled.

“... But I can't give you a normal life. I would, if I could, but this is all I can,” Terra swallowed. “I can bring you with me, and you'll never be alone again, not if I can help it.”

His gaze dropped to the floor, breathing quick and shallow. Ven's eyes darted from one meaningless point to another, clearly thinking very fast, and Terra knew what was happening.

Vanitas observed, starting to show some excitement, obviously realizing the same thing. “... He's going to say yes.”

Terra's heart was beating faster. It wasn't his own response, but he wished it wouldn't, he didn't want to experience anything remotely like exhilaration. He didn't want to know it was from fear.

He took his hands gently, and prompted, “Ven...?”

There was a sort of helplessness in his expression. Ven found the strength to hold Terra's hands in return, wordlessly granting his trust.

“I... I don't want to be alone again.”

A lurch of pain was all Terra's own.

He could stop it all. He could protest.

Terra felt a prickle at the back of his neck, aware of Vanitas, and the pain became a ravenous gnawing.

“You... You have to say the word. Will you come with me?”

Caution was eclipsed by the fear of being without Terra. “I'll come with you.”

He could almost hear the final nail being driven into Ven's coffin, sealing his fate.

Terra leaned forward, kissing him desperately as the darkness curled from his hands to Ven's wrists. His heart broke but warred with a primal, roaring pleasure swelling up in his chest – the sweetness, his soul, being given over to him completely -

This ecstatic feeling, he couldn't put a name to it, he couldn't even describe the rush that was taking away all his pain, all the spindly, prickling, pricking burning that had been chewing at every piece of him, ever particle, all soothed and made wonderful.

Shadows spread over the floor, and the dark matter around Ven's wrists became manacles. Black chains raced up from under their feet.

The cackle of Vanitas's laughter was no longer in Ven's voice. It wasn't anything remotely human, at all.

Ventus broke away from the kiss the instant the manacles became solid, gaze falling to his wrists and then snapped back up to his face. “Terra -” he gasped, panic all that remained. “Terra, what's happening -”

He almost groaned, in equal parts delight and despair. “It's okay, Ven, it'll be okay...”

In horror, Ven shook his head minutely and started to pull back to no avail. The cuffs burned and jerked him forward, chains dragging him down.

“Please -”

An unearthly scream of fury drowned him out, too piercing to be anything human. For a nonsensical second, Terra thought it was Vanitas.

Then light exploded between them and pushed them apart, another flash shattering the chains into oblivion.

Terra barely shielded him face in time to avoid being blinded, sent skidding back. The darkness had been cleared from everywhere but his own body, shadows sluicing down over his chest and curling in tendrils around his limbs.

Not thrown back the way Terra was, Ven only staggered, paralyzed by shock and fear. When he looked upon the light, it didn't scorch him.

The pure light shrank to form a shining silhouette, wavering for a second before taking a humanoid shape. Her eyes and hair were of the same calming blue, and her draping clothing floated around her as though drifting on invisible waves. Ven knew at once, though he did not know how he knew, that her name was Aqua. There was still a halo glowing off her skin, the woman formed by everything Ven envisioned as maternal and safe with ornate sword in hand.

She raised it, narrow eyes fixed on Terra and threatening, “You will not take him.”

Terra straightened up, stunned. In his head he was screaming, knowing at his core to loathe her kind, and almost managing. He thought he'd sensed divinity, about Ven, but it hadn't been him. Not from him.

A guardian angel... And she'd waited this long.

“... You're too late.” Darkness spiraled down his arm and into his hand, forming a sword of his own. “A guardian angel... And you're too late, he agreed.”

“He is not taken yet,” Aqua side-stepped, blocking Ven with her body. “His soul is still under my protection.”

The gnawing was back. Terra gritted his teeth. “He said yes. You can't protect him anymore, if you honestly ever were. You were watching?” He raised the sword at her. “Then you knew what I was. And you let him get close.”

The reminder was like a literal wound, Aqua bristling. “Yes, I watched. But despite what you are, his soul was not in danger until this day. I could not intervene,” her lip curled. “If I could have, do you think I'd have allowed you to violate him as you did?”

“Violate?” he tensed. “I didn't -”

“I know the lies you fed him to get this far,” Aqua was rigid with rage, not believing his hesitation to be anything more than a trick. “It's what your kind does.”

“I never violated him!”

Terra lunged, slashing horizontally at her as gold shone through the blue of his eyes. Ven was rooted to the spot, frozen by terror, and not sure which of them to fear more.

Aqua blocked him with another blinding flash of her sword, shoving back to keep him from getting any closer to Ven. Terra leapt inhumanly high, anger blazing – he hated her, hated her for daring to say, to even think...

He brought his blade crashing down, and Aqua parried with a powerful rush of light, physical force twirling her off to the side. Ven finally forced himself to move, backing clumsily up to the wall and pressing flat to it.

Terra still charged at her aggressively, slashing repeatedly and using his own momentum to spin, bringing his sword down at a wide diagonal.

If she'd been anything but an angel, he would have hit her. He should have obliterated her entire body, but Aqua was infuriatingly skilled; her sword glanced off of his, leaping back and reaching the same impossible height.

She lifted her sword over her head, and rained projectiles of pure light down on the dojo. Ven yelped, diving into the equipment rack in an attempt to avoid them, but the light burst into nothingness on the floor around him and left him unharmed.

Terra wasn't so fortunate. He darted out of the way but couldn't escape them all, light tearing through his shoulder with a loud growl of pain.

Impulsively, Ven grabbed a sword off the wrack – despite the fear still making his heart throb against the rib cage, Terra was hurt, and that was the only part of this that he understood at all.

“Stop it!”

Terra had already leapt up at her, and the momentary distraction was exactly what he'd needed. Aqua looked sharply down at Ven, blocking the blade without strength, and was sent to the floor. It cracked beneath the force, a short groan winding her.

“Ven...” Terra landed hard, somewhat hunched, but hope took over. Ven charged between them, not seeming to know who to turn the sword on. His cheeks were streaked with tears and he was breathing hard, looking from one to the other.

“Ven, get away from it!” Aqua pushed herself up, voice sharp.

Terra tried to even out his ragged breathing, something hot and dark dripping from his wound. “Ven... I swear to you, I never lied, not about loving you...”

Ven stared, sword still raised, but his hand was trembling.

“The only thing he's cared about all this time is getting you here,” Aqua dragged herself up to her feet. She considered pulling Ven physically back and out of harm's way, but she didn't yet have his trust – she didn't know how he'd react, and couldn't risk hurting him. “It's why he exists, he becomes what you desire. You want him to love you.”

“No – it's real,” Terra's other hand clenched into a fist, a tremor running through him. “...Even if nothing else about me is...”

“I don't care!” Ven shouted, and for second, Terra frozen. But Ven was starting to turn on Aqua, and it became clear – he was speaking to her. “Just stop hurting him!”

Her eyes widened, voice soothing. “Ven, you don't understand what this is yet.”

“Ven...” Terra stepped towards him, outstretching a hand. Hunger was clawing him up from the inside out. “Please...”

“I would never hurt anyone unless they meant you harm,” Aqua said strongly, looking past Ventus to raise her sword again. “Do not dare touch him again.”

Ven's breath caught, looking sharply around at Terra and taking a couple hasty steps back. He was being turned against him, the hunger was shredding...

Terra narrowed his eyes at Aqua hatefully. “You're not leaving me a choice.”

Behind Ven, the paper door slid open.

“What's going on here?”

Ven turned quickly, heart leaping to his throat – Eraqus stared, keys still in hand, taking in the scene with eyebrows arched high and mouth gaping slightly in surprise.

“Dad -” Ven almost choked, sword clattering to the floor as he rushed for him. “Dad, you have to get out, now-!”

Aqua used the break in the stalemate to dash forward, and Terra brought his sword down again, darkness slinging from the blade and extending it by several feet. The broad arc flew through the air towards her, and mindful of Ven's proximity, she grabbed him around the waist and leapt.

Terra pivoted to face Aqua with a snarl, sword halfway up when the strong reek of blood hit him.

Ven lifted his head, still feeling the impact of Aqua's arm. She'd evaded, brought Ven with her, but in the moment... She'd forgotten about Eraqus.

He'd been sent right through the paper walls, blood streaked across the hallway.

Ven followed the trail, finding the source. A gaping chest, blood pooling from the source. There was movement from inside Eraqus's chest – little ones, muscles straining to move, lungs trying to take in air as they sucked in more blood than oxygen.

But the rest of him. There was no movement, there. His face was slack, in shock.

“... I didn't...” Terra was stunned. “I couldn't have...”

He'd barely even noticed Eraqus come in.

There were still breaths. Shallow, wet.

Ven pulled himself out of Aqua's arms, stumbling between them as though they no longer existed. Steps loping. Getting faster, until his bare feet slipped on blood.

He threw himself down next to Eraqus, just as he drew his final breath.

Aqua's eyes were blazing, voice low. “What have you done?”

The sword dissipated in his shaking hand, taking a step back. “No...”

“Was it not enough?” Aqua gripped her own tighter, advancing on him evenly.

“I didn't mean for this...”

There was still burning pain, but Terra... He felt...cold.

Ven's mind was screaming at him to think, to do anything other than keep staring at the mass of gore that had stolen most of his father's body.

“If you destroy everything he loves in mortal life, he's sure to follow you. Is that right?” Aqua poised to attack, and for all her strength, her grip gave her away. Too tight.

She hadn't grabbed Eraqus, she hadn't defended, she'd dodged and left him in the line of fire – she'd created the line of fire, if she'd avoided them entirely...

“... Miss Angel?”

Ven's voice broke, when he found it. Aqua quickly looked towards him, then at her adversary, expecting trouble.

Terra was listless, shaking his head wordlessly.

He didn't look to be an immediate threat. Aqua could sense that he wouldn't even go anywhere. She approached Ven, instead, not getting too close. “I'm here...”

Tearing his eyes away to look up at her, Ven fought for his voice. It was small. “C-can you...do something...?”

A breath she didn't have went out of her, struck by a powerful sense of failure. “... I can't.”

Terra's shock became cold, and sick.

He did this.

Ven had never known pain like this and he was the reason. He was the cause.

Eraqus had been a man Terra respected, liked, and he'd killed him.

His entire body was becoming shadowed and sharp, pressing back against the wall. He could do nothing but let Aqua kill him.

Terra forgot that anyone else would come for Ven, forgot anything but what he'd done. And that he needed to die, for it.

He had to die for what he'd done to Ventus.

“But...” Ven stared at Aqua, at a loss. “But he was just here...”

The shock broke, tears welling up abruptly. He was already speaking about Eraqus in the past tense.

If he hadn't done that, if he refused, it could have been like he wasn't really dead, not yet, he couldn't be dead yet -

Aqua sank to one knee beside him, the blood pooling around her without touching. “I understand,” she muttered solemnly. “But there is nothing anyone can do to change his fate now. He will go on wherever he is meant to.”

“H-he wasn't supposed to-...” Ven looked back at his lifeless face. With perfect clarity, he could picture Eraqus's eyes opening, looking at him and smiling, making the creases around them crinkle like they always had.

But they didn't. There was no sign of life at all.

Irrationally, he wanted to stem the still-flowing blood, imagining pooling it in his hands and forcing it back into his body. As though that would change anything.

“I didn't say-...” Ven started to shake with sobs. “I didn't say anything. I snuck in... He t-told me not to, but...”

He almost whimpered. This was his fault; the realization hit like nausea. He'd sneaked in and Eraqus had found out, found them, and died.

Eraqus had died.

He couldn't bear the sight anymore. This thing that looked just like his father, and yet was looking less and less recognizable by the second. Desperately, he wished it would move just once, rid his mind of this and allow his last memory to be of Eraqus alive. Not cold and motionless and wrong like this.

Ven looked away but only saw more blood, and a strange version of his reflection in it.

Terra lifted his head, his voice no longer quite right – less his. “Ven, this isn't...”

Aqua closed her eyes when he dared to speak, slowly rising and looking at him with a deep sadness to her glare. She leveled her blade at his throat.

“You will answer for this.”

“No,” Ven breathed weakly.

“... I should...”

Terra had to die for what he'd done. He had to die for hurting Ven. He had to die for Eraqus...

Light had started to form around Aqua.

“No,” Ven's shoulders hunched, staring down at his reflection even as tears rippled the surface. “I don't want this fighting. No one else should hurt because of me...”

Unworthy of looking at him, Terra still lifted his gaze.

He wondered how it'd come to this.

“If I have t-to be between this...all this pain...” he sobbed softly. “I-... I don't want to exist anymore...not like this...”

“Finally.”

The sword was back in Terra's hands with the flick of a wrist, back to himself in a flash. “No!”

Vanitas. He'd forgotten Vanitas.

And it was too late – Aqua looked around sharply for the new voice, her senses having missed the presence with a cry of, “Another-?” - and Terra's sword had no power, even an angel had no power to stop the forfeit of Ven's existence.

Ventus stood slowly, blood dripping from his hands and soaking his clothes as he turned to face them.

A wild smirk of victory was on his face, and his eyes shone a terrible gold.

“Ah, now I see the appeal. Being inside of him is...” Vanitas shuddered, seemingly at a loss for words.

“Vanitas,” Terra heard himself growl, and raised his sword. “Get out.”

He made a show of poorly stifling a laugh. “Or you'll do...what, exactly?”

“Anything I have to, to keep you from taking him!”

Even as he spoke, Terra knew he couldn't kill Ven. Even if it wasn't really him.

He didn't even know if Ven was anywhere in there, anymore.

Vanitas had won and he could do nothing. Terra had let him win, he'd pushed Ven to this and now -

“You will not corrupt this soul.” Divine fury was back in Aqua's voice, pushing ahead of Terra to grab Ven – Vanitas – by the shoulders.

“We're already one in the same,” Vanitas was calm, knowing he was in no danger from an angel anymore. “He was a perfect fit. Thanks for the distraction, by the way,” he smirked.

The aura around her pulsed, a dangerous chill with it.

Still smug and assured, Vanitas started to try to pull back from her. “He can't be separated from me and live.”

Her voice was low and cold. “I know.”

Too late, Terra realized she was doing something. “What are you – Ven-...”

The cold light moved around her like wind, blocking Terra from coming any closer. “There's only one thing I can do to save him now,” she grimly clenched Vanitas's shoulders.

“What are you going to do, kill him?” Vanitas tried to shove her back, but she wrapped his struggling body tightly in her arms. She murmured that she was sorry.

Terra yelled in panic more than pain, and watched them both be dragged to their knees as Aqua once again became that figure of glowing light. Vanitas, black-haired and in the form Terra'd become horribly familiar with, was suddenly being dragged back to the wall by glowing golden ropes – he struggled furiously, screaming as the ropes began to cut in and burn his skin away.

His physical form, and even the darkness of his core, dissolved into nothing.

And where he and Aqua had knelt, Ven's body was gone.

Terra sank to his hands and knees, and all was quiet for a moment. The light was gone, and Terra was alone, with Eraqus's cooling corpse.

For that second, he felt human. He only knew grief.

Then the dark manacles shot up from the mouth of Hell opening beneath him, dark and dank and starving, and he was pulled into the maw with no resistance.

Ven's eternity was limbo. Vast, white, alone.

On rare occasions, he thought he knew of something, just out of reach. A someone, perhaps watching, maybe even wanting to connect with him. To him.

A promise, like maybe he wasn't so alone in the Nothing.

But the promise was fleeting and then it was gone, and Ven remembered again, that he was alone.

That all there was around him was...alone.

Unknown to him, he was being watched.

Stripped of light and of wings for expelling Ven's soul, Aqua had been banished, and waited on the outskirts of Nothing. As she knew it, it was dark.

And she, too, was alone.

Every so often, if she tried hard enough – and it was hard, for thoughts slipped through her like a sieve – she thought of Ventus. The one she swore to protect, the one whose soul she could only keep from Hell by forcing it onto a plane that was neither Hell nor Heaven.

She hoped he wasn't suffering. She thought she could feel him – not see him, just...sense him.

Then she forgot hope and there was nothing, again. She was alone, again.

And, from inside his cage in Hell, Terra watched.

Terra never stopped watching Ven.

He remembered. He never stopped remembering.

He remembered Ven's greatest sorrow, his fear of winding up all alone.

And he thought he'd succeeded in putting them both in Hell, after all.