to crown a six

“Y’know?” Demyx tested a few cords on his sitar, humming, dissatisfied with the sound. “I get the feeling you don’t like me much.”

Gee, what gave it away, Sora thought as he rolled his eyes. The restraints around his body tightened, painful and suffocating as they pressed tightly against his skin, a notable wince making itself known on his face.

Demyx clicked his tongue. “That’s not real nice, now is it, Roxas?” 

Sora knew that the Nobody was merely doing it to get a rise out of him—to just provoke a reaction out of him for the hell of it. It was easy bait, and he knew better than to let those words get under his skin, but Sora couldn’t help the tightness in his jaw or the way his nails bit into the meat of his palms. 

He glared at Demyx, the restraints around him pulsing faintly with magic. Bastard. 

Demyx waved his hand in what Sora could only really see as a mockery of kindness. “Don’t worry. I’m a nice guy! I can forgive a traitor like you. After all,” he smiled, somehow more playful than wicked. “We are friends, aren’t we?”

Sora turned his head, wondering if his friends—real friends—would arrive soon. 

“...hey.”

Maybe Goofy would see where his footsteps had suddenly vanished. Or maybe Donald would turn back to banter, only to realize the boy was missing.

“...hello?”

If only Jiminy hadn’t left his hoodie, then at least Sora would have had some decent company—

Sora yelped, the sound muffled by the water band as pain centered on his scalp. 

Demyx tugged at his hair again, Sora’s neck aching as the Nobody forced him to look up. “You sure love to space out, huh?” Demyx released his grip with a small chuckle, Sora slumping forward like a marionette with freshly cut strings. He tried not to be overly aware of how much Demyx seemed to dwarf him, even when kneeling. “That’s not good, Roxas. Well,” he rubbed Sora’s head, too fiercely to be called a pat, too soft to be considered a hit. “Good thing you have me here to teach you some manners, huh?” He flicked his wrist, Sora’s phone appearing in his hand. “I got a question for you.”

Sora raised an eyebrow when Demyx turned the phone to him, the screen prompting for a password. He looked at Demyx, who merely tilted his head in response.

All this… for a phone password?

Demyx wiggled the phone, and Sora couldn’t help but furrow his brows, already feeling the beginnings of a headache. He wrinkled his nose when Demyx started to poke and prod at his cheek, trying to wriggle away with great difficulty.

“C’moooon! It’s not nice to keep secrets,” Demyx said as he shuffled forward, rocking back and forth on his haunches. Sora tried to gain some distance, but Demyx tightened the restraints, keeping him in place.

(The next time Sora met with the good fairies and Donald, he was definitely going to ask for waterproof outfits, grimacing at the way he felt the water bands soak through his clothes, the material plastered against his skin.)

“Fine,” Demyx huffed as he shook his head sadly. “Didn’t want to have to do this, but,” he said with a voice that was much too cheerful, his lips curled up in an unnerving way that—Sora was beginning to realize—only Demyx could do. Sora wondered if it was sweat on the back of his neck as the water gag around his mouth slowly dripped down his chin, finding himself squeamish at the way Demyx eyed him. “You learn a thing or two in the org, know that?”

Sora had but a second to wonder what that implied before the restraint around his mouth changed, the center splitting into four tendrils and hooking into the corners of his lips, holding his mouth wide open.

Not but a moment later, Demyx pushed his forefinger into Sora’s mouth.

The sound that came from Sora’s throat was an odd sort of choke, Sora wishing he could bite down and spit out the taste of leather from his tongue. Demyx hummed as he trailed a gloved finger along Sora’s teeth, laughing as he tapped against the back molars, every so often pressing down lightly against a sharp ridge.

“These remind me of a cat I used to know,” Demyx said almost wistfully. The phone was gone, his hand now holding Sora’s chin up, whistling as he peered inside his mouth. “Magic can heal a broken bone. But,” Demyx pushed his thumb in, Sora only able to stare at him wide-eyed with saliva pooling under his tongue, his mouth beginning to ache from the stretch, “You ever wonder if it can replace a missing one?”

Sora trembled as the Nobody’s fingers settled on the sides of his back left molar.

“So, Sora,” Demyx hummed, Sora’s skin crawling with the way his name rolled off that tongue, “Feel like sharing yet?

Sora closed his eyes tightly, tears collecting on his lashes. The fingers moved, and Sora tried not to gag as Demyx pushed them down against his tongue, slowly stroking the muscle, the taste of leather rapidly overwhelming him. 

“You’re cute, know that, Sora?” he could hear the teasing smile in the Nobody’s voice, but Sora refused to open his eyes and see. He flinched when warm lips pressed against his cheek, heart ready to burst with anticipation. The fingers moved deeper into his mouth, and Sora tried not to tremble when Demyx whispered against his ear, “How about we make a deal?”