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gin and sin
chapter seven
you wait up for me i don't wake up for you
would you like the company or are you sick of me
when your love lets you go you only want love more
even when love wasn't what you were looking for
speak slow - tegan and sara
Roxas blinked in the general direction of Sora, wondering what in hell the boy was going on about now. The brunet was spreading butter onto a cinnamon raisin bagel (with the raisins picked out, of course) and glancing airily over the comics section in the newspaper. Roxas, however, was munching on a pop tart, as per usual. It was finally Saturday—the greatest day of the week for Roxas (due to the fact that he was able to sleep in until two in the afternoon) and the worst for Sora, who had to work for the entire day. He hadn’t wanted to apply for a part-time job, but with the co-workers that he had, it was hard to say no.
“Where did that come from?” murmured the blonde. Sora was always one to speak his mind, never the type of person to conceal any of his thoughts. Truth be told, Roxas had other things on his mind; like the fact that he was supposed to go see Olette, Hayner and Pence at the mall today. He wasn’t particularly looking forward to it—actually, he wanted to focus his thoughts on following Axel. He still hadn’t followed the older boy, and it was becoming more and more of a dire issue.
Sora gave a one-shouldered shrug. “I don’t know. I just like bagels. They’re better than waffles but not as good as muffins,” stated the brunet, digging his teeth into the circle-shaped baked good. Roxas stared at the younger boy, wondering where the hell Sora’s brain had gone for a vacation and if his own could go as well.
“You’re… weird,” said the older boy, blinking large blue eyes and shoving his pop tart into his mouth. He glanced over to the microwave where the current time showed brightly. It was definitely earlier than his usual morning wake-up time; a startling 8:30 AM. The only reason he’d gotten up was because Sora was noisy when moving about the house and getting ready for work. He had to be at the mall by 10:00 to work, and Sora, being the lazy person that he was made him slow to rise and ready in the mornings.
The brunet just grinned. “I’m not weird,” he stated, taking another bite of his bagel. “Just… quirky.” The blonde shook his head in disbelief, finishing what was left of his pop tart and getting to his feet. It was about that point that a living, breathing ball of sunshine barreled into the room like hell was at her heels—incidentally, Axel followed her into the kitchen.
“Good mornin’, good mornin’!” sang Selphie, before outright slamming herself into Roxas’s leg. The blonde stumbled ever so slightly, but quickly regained his balance. He was slightly annoyed that the girl had been so reckless, but he wasn’t about to talk her down. “I had the funniest dream! Listen to my dream, Roxas!”
The blonde boy shook Selphie off of his leg, and bumbled his way over to the kitchen counter. Axel took the moment to scoop the pouting Selphie up into somewhat weak arms, before planting the girl into her usual chair at the kitchen table. “Breakfast?” suggested Sora, over a mouthful of bagel.
“Lucky Charms! Only if Axel makes it fer me,” stated Selphie, immediately reaching for her colouring book that was left on the table the previous night. “He makes it special!” Roxas rolled his eyes from where he stood; the attachment that Selphie had to Axel was borderline obsession now. The girl wouldn’t do or accept anything unless the red head had some part in it.
Sora grinned. “You know, Selphie, he can’t do everything for you, as willing to do it as he probably is,” said the brunet, finishing up the remnants of a cinnamon without raisin bagel. Selphie scowled at the comment.
“Yes, he cans, because I say he can,” said the little girl, flipping open her colouring book and bringing a yellow crayon down to scribble in Santa’s eyes. With Christmas nearing, more and more festive decorations and other such things were showing up in the Appledorn household. Even outside of the home things were quickly becoming festive—even Demyx had taken to wearing a red and green striped scarf instead of his usual blue.
From where he was standing, the red head scowled at Selphie. It wasn’t as if he didn’t like the girl, but he was getting sick of doing everything for her. Sighing, he moved towards the counter, feeling very much like a door mat. Even so, as soon as he reached for the cupboard handle, his hand was nudged out of the way by a very grumpy looking blonde. Blinking, Axel gave Roxas a questioning look. “I’ll do it. Go sit down, retard.”
Somewhat hesitantly, Axel stumbled over to the table and flopped down less-than-gracefully into a chair. Legs sprawled, he idly looked over to Selphie who didn’t look too happy. “I wann’ed Axel to make it!” whined Selphie, kicking her feet madly from where she sat. Roxas rolled his eyes, sloshing milk over the side of the bowl of cereal he’d been pouring.
“Tough luck. He’s not your slave, you know,” grumbled the blonde, placing the bowl of cereal down in front of the tiny brunette. Selphie frowned and stared at the little marshmallows floating in the milk.
Screwing her face up into a pout, Selphie pushed the bowl of cereal away. “I don’ want it!” Sora rolled his eyes, pushing his chair away from the table to stand. He still needed to get ready for work, and damn if he wasn’t going to.
“Oh, hey, Sora,” said Roxas, turning around to face his younger brother. “Mom and Dad went out for breakfast, so they left you cash to take the bus to work.” The brunet immediately groaned—he hated taking the bus. It was cold and it always smelled like old ladies; not to mention the fact that he had to walk for about ten minutes to get to the nearest bus stop.
After a moment of grumbling, the teenage brunet headed upstairs. The blonde boy down in the kitchen just scoffed at Sora’s dismay—really, Kurt and Tia had informed them the night previous that they wouldn’t be there in the morning. Sora should’ve expected to have to take the bus, after all.
Axel, still shaking somewhat, flicked his eyes over to where Roxas stood. “What, does he not like the bus or something?” he grumbled. He hadn’t exactly gotten the best sleep last night (as per usual) and looked more tired than ever.
“He always complains about it,” said Roxas, shrugging. He glanced over to Selphie, frowning at her un-eaten and quickly growing soggier cereal. “You should eat that, you know.”
“Nuh-uh!” squealed Selphie, puffing her cheeks out in dismay. “Axel didn’t make it! It’s icky!” The blonde boy sighed, fed up, not wanting to put up with her silly games. As Roxas walked into the living room, Selphie glanced down at the cereal in question.
Once the blonde youth was out of sight, Selphie quickly took to devouring her Lucky Charms. Axel blinked at her in mild horror, wondering if some sort of demon had possessed her sad little soul. It was evident she had no qualms against eating the cereal—she just liked to make Roxas’s life a living hell.
Grinning slyly at Selphie’s mischievousness, Axel got up from his chair. Making his way out of the kitchen, he gave Naminé a small wave to where the girl was sitting on the sofa. Roxas was curled up into a ball on the opposite side of the divan, looking very much like some brooding little child. The red head cautiously made his way into the room, before flopping himself down directly beside the blonde. He was way too close, though, for Roxas’s tastes. He could feel Axel’s bony side pressing into his own.
“Go away,” grumbled the blonde, frowning. He wasn’t exactly in the mood to be bothered. Dark circles hung under his eyes, and he had a severe lack of sleep (mostly due to the fact that Axel woke him up every early morning).
Axel rolled his eyes, and set to poking the younger teen in the side for sheer annoyance. “Make me,” he retorted, rather childishly. Brows drawn, Roxas wondered why the red head had taken to acting… his age, really. He’d never seen Axel be so immature.
“Fuck off,” said Roxas, batting a hand at Axel’s in irritation. In a seemingly quick movement, poison green eyes glinting, the older teen had yanked Roxas’s arm and pulled the youth into his lap. Flushed and furious, Roxas squawked and flailed, trying to get away from the bony structure that was Axel. “Let me go, you fag!”
Axel quirked an eyebrow, wrapping long fingers around either of Roxas’s wrists. “Why should I?” he said, his voice somewhat teasing. At that point, Naminé had averted her attention from the television to look over at the two.
“Can you guys be quiet, please?” said the pale girl, scowling. “Or go upstairs if you want to crawl all over each other.” At this, Roxas flushed before elbowing Axel in the ribs and pushing himself away from the red head who was sputtering in pain.
“I’m not gay!” protested Roxas. Both Naminé and Axel blinked in his general direction, the girl scared of his reaction, the older boy just trying not to break out in laughter.
Naminé giggled. “…I didn’t say you were,” she mumbled, ducking her head under her arms to ward off a thrown cushion, courtesy of Roxas.
“But you implied it!” snorted the teenager, turning around to pick up another sofa cushion to throw at his younger sister. Axel interrupted him, however, by smashing a throw pillow into his face, muffling any sort of noises the blonde boy would’ve wanted to make.
Axel sighed. “Stop your bitching,” he mumbled, bringing the pillow down from Roxas’s face. The blonde scowled.
“I should be allowed to bitch. I listen to your idiotic ranting all of the time,” retorted the younger boy. Axel scoffed, crossing his thin arms across his chest. About to say something, the red head damn near jumped when the door bell rang.
It was around that point when a squealing Selphie bounded out of her chair and scurried her way to answer the door. Her steps were muffled by her socks as she barreled her way down the hall, only stopping when she yanked open the door. Scowling in dismay at the figure in front of her, the young girl almost slammed the door in his face. “Axel stealer,” she hissed, even as she let Demyx in the house.
The dirty blonde just laughed, tossing his scarf and jacket onto the coat rack. “Good morning to you, too,” he mumbled, reaching downward to muss Selphie’s hair as a sign of affection. The girl just protested, smacking his hands away and grumbling her way back to the table to finish her cereal.
Axel, from where he was standing in the living room, had a clear view of Demyx. He basically had the same reaction as Selphie. “What are you doing here?” he questioned, posture going rigid.
“Oh, Sora called just a few minutes ago. He said he was ‘desperate for a ride’ or something,” said Demyx, scratching the back of his head, rather absently. Roxas’s upper lip twitched. So, Sora had decided to take the lazy route and call Demyx? That was a little bit bizarre, even for Sora. Usually, despite his complaining, the young brunet was self-reliant. He would ask for help, but usually wouldn’t do it unless he was in dire need.
Axel scowled. “How the hell did he get your number?” questioned the red head, eyes following Demyx’s every move as the older man walked into the living room.
The older man shrugged. “He asked me for it a while ago, so I gave it to him. Anyway, where is he?” Roxas idly pointed to the stairs, flopping back down onto the sofa beside Naminé.
“Still getting ready. He’s really slow in the mornings,” said Roxas.
Abruptly, the red head snarled; “What, looking for someone younger?” Naminé scowled and wondered what was going on. Demyx laughed uncomfortably, dodging his eyes away from the red head’s glare. Roxas seethed. He shouldn’t be talking about that shit around my sister.
“N’aw, Axel. You know my devotion is only for you,” joked the dirty blonde, trying to lighten the mood. Axel rolled his eyes, sitting himself down on the sofa on the far end and glaring moodily at the television. Demyx sighed, knowing that he’d probably never get his point across. Most of his slightly teasing comments were sincere, even if Axel never thought that.
Demyx eventually just took a seat beside Axel, sighing in slight discontent when the red head didn’t acknowledge his existence. Roxas was tense as well, not wanting to admit that two gay guys were in his house, and seemingly having some bizarre sort of spat. Axel was always antagonistic towards the older man, but even now was a little bit severe.
The worst part, though, was trying to ignore the fact that Demyx was resting his hand on Axel’s thigh, casually sliding his hand back and forth, seemingly trying to console the younger man. The red head didn’t move away, but he didn’t seem to notice the touch either.
The sheer fact that Demyx was touching Axel at all in his house made Roxas’s mouth dry. He cleared his throat, giving both of the other males a pointed look. Demyx still didn’t move his hand, however, and Axel just glared.
They stayed waiting like that for longer than Sora should’ve taken. Roxas found himself glancing at the clock more than he possibly should have. Finally, at 9:15, the brunet bounded down the stairs, decked out in his work clothes (a rather hideous green shirt with orange trim) and pulling on a pair socks as he tripped over the last step. “Ack, sorry I took so long!” said the youth, glancing around the living room hurriedly.
Demyx glanced over his shoulder to look Sora in the eyes. “Oh, hey. Let’s get goin’ then,” he mumbled, pulling himself to his feet. To Roxas, Axel looked vaguely relieved the older man was leaving. Though he couldn’t help but jump slightly when Demyx bent down to press a chaste kiss to the side of Axel’s lips. “See you guys later. Chances are I’ll be picking him up from work again, too.”
“Yeah, most likely!” laughed Sora, even if his voice showed some discomfort. He may have liked Demyx, but he wasn’t exactly comfortable around homosexuals. He didn’t mind them per se, but it still freaked him out a little bit when two guys kissed around him. “There’s no way I’m taking the bus home!”
“That’s cuz yer lazy!” yelled Selphie, still in the kitchen. She had gotten preoccupied with her colouring book, and was now fixated on giving Rudolph a purple nose instead of a red one.
Naminé giggled. “She’s probably right, Sora,” said the blonde girl. Sora just scowled, even if there was some sort of humor to his expression. Demyx walked into the hall, quickly putting on his jacket and scarf again, ready to go.
“You’re gonna be late if you don’t hurry,” said Axel, staring absently at the television. He didn’t even need to pretend he cared—it was evident by the tone in his voice that he just wanted Demyx out of the house.
Sora had barely toed on his ridiculous yellow boots before he bolted out the door, waving to the rest of his family. Demyx simply waved, and was out the door behind the younger brunet.
Roxas sighed. For some reason, he wasn’t entirely comfortable with his younger brother hanging around with Demyx. The man seemed a little bit sleazy, but at the same time everyone but himself (along with Axel) seemed to trust him.
When the blonde had finally begun to relax again, Axel killed his optimism.
“Don’t blame me if your brother ends up raped.”
Sora found himself staring at the minivan instead of getting into it. It was so… ugly. Compared to the coolness that was Demyx, the vehicle was the epitome of un-coolness. The dirty blonde scowled, opening the door to the driver’s side and clicking the button to automatically unlock Sora’s door.
“Yeah, well, what can you do? It works, at least,” mumbled the older man, sliding into the driver’s seat. Sora mirrored the older man’s movements almost to a point as he slid into the passenger seat. “And it has speakers and a CD player. Good enough for me.”
As soon as he was in the seat, Sora was forced to take notice of all the CDs littered everywhere. He literally couldn’t put his feet down because of the discs on the floor. “Uh, you sure like music, don’t you?” said the brunet, laughing somewhat uncomfortably.
“Music is my life,” said the older man, flashing a slightly crooked grin. Sora laughed somewhat awkwardly as Demyx jammed his keys into the ignition and started the car. It was in pretty good condition for an older vehicle, but it needed a tune up judging by the sound of the engine.
“I can see that,” laughed Sora, looking for CDs he recognized. He scowled upon reading the label of one in particular. “…Aqua? Why the hell do you have this in here?”
Demyx shrugged, not really paying attention to Sora as he backed the minivan out of the snowy driveway. “I don’t know, I guess I just kind of like them. They’re fun to listen to sometimes,” he mumbled, somewhat absently.
“You have weird music taste,” said Sora, vaguely entertained. The dirty blonde snorted, eyes focused on the road.
“If you want weird music, check what’s already in the player. My mom left the CD in there, and I haven’t bothered to change it yet,” snorted Demyx, flicking his eyes over to Sora. Frowning ever so slightly, the brunet reached over to the player and pressed the ‘on’ button. He jumped when deep, rich vocals flowed through the speakers, and the heavy bass of the music rattled the frame of the minivan.
After a moment of silent, astounded pondering, Sora mumbled, “…Barry White?” Demyx grinned, bobbing his head instead of a proper answer.
“Yeah. My mom was always into him. See, I like the Maestro myself, but I’m a sucker for the 80’s, and Duran Duran have sweet awesome songs,” said the older man, grinning as he blathered about his musical sense. With a backdrop of Barry White and Demyx making his own noise, the car seemed to be filled with life.
Only when Demyx finally tired of his own talking did the mood sink somewhat. “Man, Sora, talking to you is good. It sucks all of the stress out of me.”
Sora cocked an eyebrow, glancing out the window at passing buildings. It wouldn’t be too much longer before they’d get to the mall and Sora would be pulled into the drudgery of work. “How so? Like, why ya stressed out?”
The dirty blonde gave a heavy sigh. “Axel, mostly. But you know, I don’t wanna make you uncomfortable by talking about him,” said the man, flipping Sora an awkward smile.
“Heh, it’s all right,” said Sora, glancing at his hands. “Like, Axel’s cool and all. He seems nice. But… I don’t know, there’s somethin’ about him that seems kinda off. Like, he’s just weird or something.”
Demyx nodded, reaching a hand over to the sound system to flick the volume dial. The noise level in the car lessened, even if the bass still rattled at Sora’s back. “Well, that’s probably not his fault. It’s probably my fault. For everything. I suppose I should feel guilty, but I don’t really.” Man, is he just rambling, or is he gonna get to the point? thought Sora, pretending to be interested.
“See, I… well, I like Axel. A lot,” said the older man, smiling somewhat awkwardly. His hands tensed on the steering wheel. “The problem with that, though, is it’s one-sided. I fucked things up real bad with him.”
Sora shrugged. He didn’t know how to deal with gay relationships. He figured it couldn’t have been too much different than a lesbian relationship (seeing as gay guys were so girly anyway). Frowning, Sora mused that it wasn’t the case with Demyx and Axel. Neither of them were effeminate or womanly in any way; the two men didn’t fit the ‘gay’ stereotype that the media laid down. In reality, every concept that Sora had of homosexuality was completely muddled now.
“The worst thing though is that he still has a thing for this guy,” said Demyx, chagrin hinting his words. “Which he really needs to give up on, by the way, because there’s no way in hell they’re going to end up together.”
“Why do you say that?” inquired Sora, scowling. The young brunet went by the old standard of ‘where there’s a will, there’s a way’, and he believed that anything was possible if you put enough effort into it.
Regardless, Demyx was out to smash that particular dream of his. “There’s no fucking way in hell I’m letting Axel end up with that sleazeball,” said Demyx, his voice somewhat dark.
A little bit scared of the way the conversation had taken a turn for the worse, Sora switched the subject. “…I want a kitty. I’ve always liked cats, but mom’s all ‘Nooo, Naminé’s allergic’, so I’ll never get that kitty. But I work at a pet store, and damn are cats ever cute.”
Demyx quirked an eyebrow. “What pet store do you work at?”
“Oh, the one in the middle of the mall. Donald and Goofy’s Pet Emporium, you know.”
Axel didn’t turn around. Back facing Roxas, he seemed to be looking down at something. Blinking, the blonde glanced at the clock. 12:37 AM. Axel’s usual haunting time. “What are you doing?” murmured the blonde, staring at the red head’s back somewhat blearily. He had his shirt and sweatshirt hiked up—what the hell was he doing?
“Mh, taking out piercings, they get in the way,” said the red head, his hands shaking somewhat. Roxas’s eyes narrowed. What the hell? Piercings—there weren’t any piercings on Axel’s face or anything.
“What piercings?” grumbled the blonde, running a hand through his sleep-mussed hair. Axel glanced over his shoulder to the younger boy, fixing him with a glare.
“Nipples,” he said, as if it was the most common thing ever. Roxas blinked. He hadn’t known that Axel had his nipples pierced. Then again, it wasn’t like he’d seen Axel naked or even wanted to think about Axel naked or anything.
After a moment, Roxas mumbled, “Uh… wow. I didn’t know… you, er…”
“Eh. Got them done a long time ago. Demyx did them. I was drunk off my ass and I couldn’t feel it, but man, one of them got inf-infected and it hurt like fuck,” said Axel, his words slightly garbled. The blonde knew that Axel was out of it enough that he could follow him without him noticing. While it wasn’t necessarily a good thing to see the red head shaking so badly he looked like he was about to fall over, it still made him less aware of his surroundings. “…Yeah, I’m going now. Uh, I’ll be back… later.”
Roxas nodded. He knew that. Sighing shakily, he recounted the events of the afternoon. At one point, he’d made an effort to hide his jacket and his boots under his bed. He couldn’t afford to go out the front door, due to the fact that he might’ve woken someone up. He had his plan made out in his mind. Roxas disregarded the fact that it was dangerous and stupid to go out in the middle of the night and chase Axel to god knows where—but still, he needed to learn what was going on.
The blonde sighed, glancing to the clock again. He felt the bed sink as Axel got onto it, and the red head crawled over to him, nearly straddling his legs as per usual. “What, Roxas, you worried about me?” he said teasingly, his face rather close to Roxas’s. The blonde turned his head to face the red head, and quickly found his nose touching Axel’s. His body stiffened, but he didn’t move away.
“D-don’t worry, I’ll be fine,” murmured Axel. Roxas stared into dull green eyes, letting his gaze wander about the red head’s face. Tattoos on high cheekbones, thin, chapped lips and slightly sunken features; he could’ve been good looking. Roxas knew he was scrutinizing, but Axel didn’t seem to care.
Really, Axel didn’t care about much.
“So, when did you get those tattoos?” questioned the blonde, keeping his voice rather hushed. Axel gave him a blank stare for a moment, seemingly deciding if he was going to speak or not.
“Summer,” murmured Axel, cloudy eyes hooded by heavy lids. He looked tired, but being the kind of person he was, he wouldn’t care. Roxas sighed, half wanting to push Axel off of him. The red head was just being kind of creepy now, and he could smell Axel’s breath and it wasn’t exactly the most pleasant thing.
Grimacing, Roxas pulled away.
But Axel pushed forward.
And kissed him.
It was incredibly awkward. Axel had nearly missed his lips, and Roxas was frowning and trying not to move. Lips pressed tight, he prayed to god that the red head wouldn’t try to stick his tongue in or some bizarre shit. He couldn’t handle some fag doing that. Squirming as Axel used shaky fingers to take hold of his jaw, he yelped when the older boy dug sharp fingernails into his skin. With the blonde’s mouth open, Axel let his tongue forcefully slide into Roxas’s mouth.
He tasted like cigarettes and puke. Roxas gagged.
As abruptly as it happened, Axel pulled away. “You kiss like a dead f-fish,” he murmured before getting off of the bed and sliding open the window. Roxas just stared, mouth open, wondering what the hell just happened. Without another word, the red head climbed out the window and out of the room.
The blonde closed his eyes. He took a few deep breaths, trying to clear his mind somewhat. Regardless of the bizarre kiss the two of them had just had, he still needed to follow him, as much as he didn’t want to.
He was going to wait a few minutes, though. He couldn’t risk Axel hearing him. For the moment, he let himself dwell on the fact that Axel had kissed him. He supposed it was probably just the craving for drugs talking, but still, the red head had been pretty eager. He found himself wondering if Axel actually liked him at all, or maybe he was just being a cock-hungry little slut. Maybe it was a way to get back at Demyx.
Deciding enough time had passed, the blonde got out of his bed. He quickly put on much needed clothing, along with his jacket and boots. Steeling his nerves, he peeked his nose out the window, flicking his eyes around. He was glad that it wasn’t snowing anymore. It had snowed earlier that night, and because of that it made it much easier to follow Axel.
Roxas swung one leg over the windowsill, glancing down to the ground below. It wasn’t a necessarily long drop, but there was a chance something could go wrong. A lifetime of falling off of monkey bars and various other high places told him so.
He brought the other leg over the sill, scooting himself forward so that he was barely supported at all. Clenching his eyes shut, the blonde took a deep breath. Opening blue optics once more, he prayed he didn’t smash his face in, (or crush Tia’s rosebush) before using what leverage he had with his arms and pushing himself out of the window.
The air was cool on his face. He bent his legs as he hit the ground, absorbing most of the impact as he stumbled forward upon landing. Just happy he didn’t break anything, he kept his eyes focused on the snow below him. He was glad that the snow was freshly fallen—at least he could follow the older boy’s footsteps. “Okay, if I jog for a little bit, I might be able to catch up with him,” he murmured to himself, glancing around the lonely neighborhood. It was different seeing it at night, that was for sure.
Willing himself to not turn around and go back inside, the blonde shoved his hands in his pockets, bowed his head and followed the footprints. He was lucky there was no one else walking around—he figured he might have some problems if it started snowing, or if he found other footprints, but as long as he could catch up to Axel and keep the red head in viewpoint, he’d be all right. It wasn’t like the older youth would notice him in the state he was, anyway.
Eyes glued to the ground, he followed the footsteps in the dark. He was tired, and he knew this wasn’t exactly the smartest thing, but it was something he needed to do. The air was cold and biting on his skin, but he tried to ignore it. Picking up his pace, he attempted to jog some of the way, hoping to god he didn’t slide on some wet snow or ice and fall on his ass.
Eventually, however, he did catch sight of the red head. Oh, fucking god, I hope he doesn’t notice me. He pulled up the collar of his jacket so it somewhat shielded his face, but really, it didn’t look like Axel was going to pay too much attention to him. The red head was shaking violently as he charged down the dimly lit street. He looked like he needed something badly. Or hell, he was just cold; he wasn’t even wearing a jacket. Roxas wondered if Axel was going to catch hypothermia—it was possible.
He must’ve walked for almost an hour. His legs had gone numb, and his toes felt like they were going to fall off. They were getting into the shadier neighborhoods, and Roxas was getting a little nervous. There were lights on in the houses around him—he presumed that most of the people were up and doing drugs or something.
Suddenly, light was burning into his retinas. He brought a hand up to shield his eyes from the glare of the headlights. With his eyes used to a dim street, he could barely see in blinding light. He kept walking, hoping to god that there wasn’t some kind of pervert in the car out to kidnap him.
“Hey, kid!”
Roxas picked up speed, ignoring the fact that the car had done a U-turn behind him. He still had Axel in sight, that was all that mattered. He ignored the fact that the car had pulled up beside him and the passenger window was rolled down. Roxas flicked his eyes over to the car, trying to get an eyeful of the man following him. Oh, great, it was like the damn Marlboro Man was following him. “Hey, kid, what the hell are ya doin’ out here? It’s almost 2 AM, and you sure as hell don’t look like the usual folk ‘round here,” said Marlboro Man, scowling at him from under a black hat. Roxas glared at him sideways, taking in the fact that this guy looked a hell of a lot like Brad Pitt. Okay, so, I’m walking around at after one in the morning, chasing a drug addict who’s bound to notice me now, talking to Brad Pitt the Marlboro man. How much more fucked up can this get?
“Look, do ya need a ride home?” asked the man, genuine concern lacing his casual southern drawl. He certainly wasn’t from Canada. Roxas stiffened, picking up his pace again, but Marlboro Man just kept following him.
Scowling, the blonde said; “Look, just go away. I don’t want your help you fucking pervert; I’m here for a reason.” Marlboro Man raised an eyebrow before stopping the car altogether and opening the driver door. Roxas was about to take off sprinting, when he heard the distinct sound of someone falling on their ass.
This guy had to be kidding.
Marlboro Man winced, picking up his hat before getting to his feet. He’d evidently tripped over the side of the car as he got out, and fallen flat on his face. Nursing a bruised chin, the man had one hand in his pocket as he sauntered over to the blonde, seemingly trying to come off as smooth. His hair was far longer than any woman, let alone man’s that Roxas had ever seen, and decked out in a trench-coat and cowboy boots, he was the very definition of ‘Hick Sheik’.
“C’mon, kid, I’ll give you a ride home. This place is dangerous, an’ I don’t want you gettin’ raped or nothin’,” said Marlboro Man, placing one long-fingered hand on the blonde’s shoulder. Roxas jerked away.
Scowling, the blonde turned and kept walking once more. He didn’t want to lose sight of Axel, and the red head was slowly disappearing down the street. “Don’t touch me, jackass, I need to leave,” he snarled over his shoulder, giving the taller man a glare. Marlboro Man just readjusted his hat and sighed.
“Look, kid, at least tell me where you’re goin’, so I can make sure you come out alive?” the man said, loud enough for Roxas to hear him. Well, at this point, it didn’t really look like a bad idea. The blonde had no idea what he was doing, after all. He hadn’t even thought about the fact that he might get screwed over; it would pay to have someone there to help.
Sighing, Roxas turned around to face the cowboy again. Marlboro Man smirked, swaggering over to him once again and giving him a look of approval. “I knew you’d listen to me. Alright, so, I know you’re not here for the drugs, just by lookin’ at ya. Nice clothes, and hell, ye don’t look a day over 14.”
Roxas scowled at this. “I’m sixteen, dumbass. And I’m here because I’m… following someone,” he murmured, trying to keep his voice down. He glanced over his shoulder again. Well, damn. Axel was out of sight now. But at least the footprints were still there.
Marlboro Man rolled his eyes. “Well, I’ve heard that one a lot. Is this person in trouble?” He gave Roxas a somewhat scrutinizing expression, but he didn’t want to pressure too much.
“Yeah. Well, kind of. I don’t know exactly where he goes, but it’s close to here I guess. He’s that red haired guy you passed.” At this, Marlboro Man’s expression fell. He stood up straight, took off his hat and scratched the back of his head, almost as if he was embarrassed or something.
“Oh. Axel?” he said, voice somewhat strained. Roxas scowled, but nodded his head nevertheless. Evidently, Axel had a sort of reputation here. That wasn’t exactly a good thing, but at least he knew where Axel was now.
Roxas crossed his arms, shivering somewhat. “So you know where he goes?” inquired the boy, trying to keep his teeth from chattering. He wanted to keep moving; at least it kept his blood moving, and he didn’t get as cold.
“Yeah. I know. I’m there a lot,” said Marlboro Man, giving a somewhat crooked smile. Roxas tensed again; he didn’t like the tone that the man had used in his voice. He almost sounded guilty of something.
The blonde gave the taller man an inquisitive look. “For what?” he asked, voice suspicious. Marlboro Man didn’t look like he was into cocaine. He seemed healthy and generally sober, save for the fact that his trench-coat smelled like cigarettes and cheap booze.
“Er, you should ask yer friend,” said the cowboy, dodging Roxas’s eyes. The blonde rolled his eyes, turning away from the older man to try to get some answers.
“…So how was Axel in bed?”
Marlboro Man grinned. “He’s like a damned cat in heat, tha’ one,” said the cowboy, speaking as if he was a child talking about a toy. And thus, Roxas’s suspicions were confirmed. He groaned into his hand, and Marlboro Man’s face fell. “Er, wait, I—I didn’ say that! Er, he’s as sweet as an angel, I’m not sleepin’ with him! My heart’s devoted ta Squall! It’s a conspiracy, I tell ya!”
While the auburn haired man rambled, Roxas got increasingly angrier. Axel’s a goddamn minor, this asshole should get thrown into jail and sodomized by some guy named Bubba. “Look, can you just take me to wherever the hell he’s going? I don’t give a fuck if you’ve slept with him, I’m guessing half of the people in this neighborhood alone have, too.”
The man froze, giving a slightly awkward laugh before placing his hat back on his head. He tried to smile and look friendly, but he failed somewhat miserably. He opened his mouth to say something, but Roxas interrupted him. “And I’m not getting in your car. You can lead me there on foot.”
Nodding tentatively, the cowboy slumped his way back to the car, grumbling about how the blonde was paying for it if it got stolen. It wasn’t the nicest of neighborhoods to leave a car, (even if it was barely intact), alone, and there was a high chance it would be stolen. Marlboro Man locked the vehicle, before dragging his feet back over to Roxas. “Lead the way,” murmured Roxas, and the cowboy grunted in return.
The walk to the slightly derelict-looking place was a short one. While the house wasn’t exactly falling apart, and it was reasonably large, it needed new paint and the deck was almost rotting. Roxas scowled—well, it definitely looked like the kind of place that he pictured. Maybe a little less run-down, but with snow laying like icing on the roof, it looked very much like something out of some kind of bad porn flick.
Roxas glanced over to the cowboy, as if asking if this was the place. Marlboro Man nodded, pulling a half-finished pack of cigarettes out of the inner pocket of his jacket. Hey, those aren’t Marlboros. I guess I have to give him a new nickname. He idly shoved one into his mouth, chewing on the filter as he lit up. “I’m not goin’ in with ya. Lex would skin me for comin’ back,” he murmured over the cigarette, shoving his hands in his pockets. “I’ll wait for ya to get back out, though.”
The blonde nodded, making his ways up the steps, avoiding the rotting ones. He didn’t exactly want to fall through. He stepped up to the door, steeling his nerves as he let his hand hover over the doorknob.
Unfortunately, the door was opened for him. Roxas found himself facing a stomach. Hell, this guy was a giant. He just towered over the blonde, and Roxas quickly found himself staring up into hard, condescending eyes and a dead-set mouth. Oh, shit.
“…Who is it? Get out of the way, idiot, let me see,” said a somewhat grumpy male, pushing his way past the imposing figure in the door. Roxas took a step back as a rather short man stuck his face as close to Roxas’s as possible. “…Hm. Who the hell are you? You don’t look like the people around here. How old are you? Ten? Nine? Don’t answer that, keep your mouth shut and only nod or shake your head.”
The guy looked like he had jumped out of a cartoon. Purple-blue-silver (hell, Roxas couldn’t even classify the colour) hair that fell into narrow eyes, he would’ve looked ready to kill if not for the fact he was half-dressed and looked like something out of a Japanese cartoon. The giant behind him sighed, placing a broad hand on the short man’s shoulder. “Go back inside,” he murmured, baritone voice soft. “I don’t want you to catch col—”
“Oh, shut up and go back inside. I’ll deal with this pipsqueak myself,” said the small man, crossing his arms over his narrow chest and staring down the blonde. “Are you looking for Squall? Nod if ‘yes’, shake your head if ‘no’.”
“Zexion…” murmured the large man, only to have a small palm on his chest trying to push him back into the house moments later. Roxas merely shook his head; who the hell was ‘Squall’? He didn’t understand what was going on.
‘Zexion’ scowled, turning a glare back to Roxas. “Okay. Not looking for Squall, huh? Well, are you looking for Rikku? I doubt it, nobody’s looking for Rikku these days. Okay, so not Rikku,” said the man, before Roxas even had a chance to respond. “Axel?”
At this, the youth frantically nodded. Zexion quirked an eyebrow, turning a glance back to the large man who was still standing in the doorway. “Urgh, didn’t I tell you to go back inside?” said the slightly manic man at the doorway. “Get, get. I can deal with this myself, you big oaf!” The large man’s face softened somewhat, but he didn’t leave.
Scowling, Zexion analyzed Roxas once more. “You… don’t look like the kind of person who shows up here. You’re lost, aren’t you? I mean, you look like some damn virgin who got lost. I don’t need this right now! Lexaeus, kill him!”
Roxas immediately stiffened. The situation was evidently taking a turn for the worse. Oh, shit, I am so fucked. I’m going to die. I’m going to die. While he was praying for a quick and painless death, he didn’t notice the large man’s lips tug upward into a smirk. ‘Lexaeus’, as it seemed, was amused. He brought one massive hand upward to run thick fingers through wiry hair. “Relax. I won’t kill you,” he said, tone quiet as it had been before.
The blonde visibly relaxed. Well, now that he knew he wasn’t going to die, he wasn’t particularly scared. Zexion’s lips were pressed into a straight, angry line as he flashed a grimace up at Lexaeus. “What, going soft on me because of some prissy 10 year old? I miss the days when you’d attack someone on command.”
“I’m not ten,” retorted Roxas, glowering at Zexion. The man wasn’t all that much bigger than him in size, but he evidently possessed a personality that wasn’t one to be trifled with. “I’m sixteen. And I’m looking for Axel Erickson. He’s here, right?” If Brad Pitt Marlboro Man Whatever the Fuck His Name Was led him there on a wild goose-chase, there was going to be some ass kicking—after all, the guy was still just out of the viewpoint of the house, probably smoking a few dozen cigarettes and waiting for him. Well, maybe. Roxas wasn’t even sure; Marlboro Man wasn’t the most trustworthy looking person, after all.
“Axel? He is here,” said Zexion, glancing back towards Lexaeus. The large man gave him a slightly weary look before disappearing into the house. From over Zexion, Roxas couldn’t make out much of the dark room behind him. But man, the stench coming from the place was almost overpowering; sex, drugs and booze hung in the air, and Roxas almost gagged. Lexaeus came back into view and gave the both of them hard looks. It was evident Zexion did the talking and Lexaeus was the muscle behind the operation. “But he’s busy at the moment.”
“And by ‘busy’, I presume he’s passed out or high,” questioned Roxas, cynicism tingeing his voice. After a moment, the lilac haired man gave a hesitant nod. He didn’t budge when Lexaeus slid a jacket over his shoulders; he didn’t want the younger man getting cold, after all.
Lexaeus sighed. “You should go home,” he stated, his voice almost commanding. Roxas almost flinched; these guys were damn intimidating, and if had been any other teenager standing there, they would’ve ran away by then.
“Look, I know I must be the weirdest person in the world to you guys right now, but I really need to get him out of here. Like, I don’t even like this idiot, but he’s… I don’t even fucking know, I just hate seeing him like this,” stated Roxas. Zexion shrugged, leaning his body against the doorway where Lexaeus stood. He idly let one hand peek out from under the coat to pull it closer to his body.
“He’s this way because he wants to be. I doubt you’ll be able to change that,” said Zexion, his voice clipped and to the point. He wasn’t the type of person to repeat himself, and his words were deathly serious. You couldn’t change a person by just telling them to. It took time and effort and dedication and in Axel’s case, rehab.
Lexaeus backed away from the doorway, placing his hands on Zexion’s shoulders and practically dragging him back into the house. “You’re working on a lost cause,” murmured the large man, seemingly intending to end the conversation.
“Well, go away. We don’t want you here. Marluxia would be angry with us for telling you this much,” said Zexion, scowling. In two seconds flat, the door was shut and locked, and Roxas stood there with a dumbstruck expression on his face, wondering what the hell just happened.
Roxas felt disappointed; somewhat in himself, mostly in Axel. He hated the fact that he had morals—he couldn’t leave Axel to kill himself. It wasn’t… humane. He couldn’t stand watching Axel pick at his skin, or cry, or laugh or act nice to him or anything that he did when he was stoned. It was scary.
He was afraid.
The blond stepped off of the porch, movements lethargic as he made his way back over to Marlboro Man. The cowboy gave him a half grin as Roxas stood beside him. “Find yer friend? I guess not, or else he’d be here with ya.”
Roxas sighed, shoving his hands into his pockets once more. “…They wouldn’t even tell me what he was doing,” murmured the blonde, hating that he looked far too innocent for his own good. He often got treated like a little kid because of it.
“That’s Zexion for ya. Hell, I’ve been goin’ there for God knows how many years, and he still hates me. Nothin’ personal, he’s jus’ not a friendly guy,” said Marlboro Man, smiling somewhat crookedly.
The youth glowered at the ground. He felt cheated. He wanted to know what the hell was going on. And then it came to him. “Hey, wait,” he said, chin rising. “You’ve been in there. What exactly goes on? Like, they do drugs, it’s a crack house, but you don’t look like the type to…”
Marlboro Man shrugged. “I’m friends with the owner of that there house. He runs a kinna drug ring or somethin’. I dunno, I don’t pay attention to it,” he muttered. Roxas’s brows knit. He knew this guy wasn’t telling the whole story. There was something about him that Roxas just didn’t trust.
“…So I guess Axel’s just in it for the drugs,” said Roxas, leaning his head back to stare at the sky. The cowboy shrugged, tipping his hat a little bit lower so that the brim shaded his eyes.
The older man nodded. “Yep. It’d seem so,” he stated, voice somewhat offhand. Roxas wasn’t sure, and he didn’t know the guy well enough, but there was something about him that made the blonde feel like he didn’t know the truth.
“Well, I guess I’m going home then,” said Roxas, reaching upward to pull the collar of his jacket around his neck a little bit more. Marlboro Man gave him a slightly confused look.
“You’re not gonna walk, are ya kid? How far d’you live from here?” said Marlboro Man, quirking an eyebrow. Roxas scowled—there was no way in hell he was letting the Chuck Norris wannabe give him a ride home.
Roxas shrugged. “I’ll walk. I don’t live too far away,” he mumbled, even if he was lying through his teeth. He gave Marlboro Man one last wave (simply to show politeness) and practically tore off down the street.
He could hear the man following him, presumably to get back to his car. God knows why he left it there in the first place, instead of bringing it back up to the house along with him. Either Marlboro Man was a genuine idiot, or he was just trying to go unnoticed.
And when he once again heard the distinct sound of the cowboy falling on his ass, he knew it was option number one.
…Am I really happy? Roxas mused on this. He didn’t like Axel. He didn’t particularly enjoy having him around, even. The red head was a two faced asshole who was selfish, greedy and useless. He wasn’t even worth a place in Roxas’s brain, as far as the blonde was concerned.
But that was the problem. He was concerned.
He didn’t like that fact. Axel was gay, he was a goddamn faggot; Roxas wasn’t supposed to like faggots. Not even a little bit. The cherry on top of his already macabre sundae was that Axel was especially promiscuous; the kid was probably crawling with all sort of STDs. Roxas didn’t even know why he was letting Axel touch him at all.
Even so, the blonde just sighed. The sun had barely risen, and he was wide awake. He couldn’t go back to sleep. Sunday mornings were always the best to sleep in, but he found himself unable to do such a thing when Axel was in his room.
At the same time, he didn’t really want to move. The red head was warm against his side, leg draped over Roxas’s, head nuzzled in between the pillow and the blonde’s head. Axel was still taller, and thus pretty much dwarfed the younger boy in comparison—even so, Roxas couldn’t help but compare him to a giant, bony teddy-bear. He had no idea someone so crude, demented and offish could be so cuddly.
But man, did Axel ever have a bad case of morning breath.
Roxas pushed him away as soon as the red head’s mouth got too close. He sat upright, scooting himself to the edge of the bed before standing up. “Wake up, dipshit,” he murmured to Axel, kicking the edge of the bed.
The red head groaned and rolled onto his side. Well, that was a no.
So, instead of kicking the bed, Roxas smacked Axel across the face. The red head immediately retaliated, even though he was lethargic in his movements. The blonde just snorted, throwing on some clothes and marching out of the room.
The red head groaned under his touch, grinding his hips against Demyx’s, trying to make him go faster. He hated being treated like some kind of princess, and goddamnit, that was exactly what Demyx tended to do, lately. He took his time—and really, that wasn’t like the musician at all.
So, Axel decided to say something about it. He tugged his lips away, bringing a hand up to push the musician up a little bit. Demyx gave him a slightly confused look through his foggy eyed stupor. “…What?”
“If you’re not gonna fuck me already, then I’ll just leave,” snorted the red head, already moving to sit up. The dirty blonde didn’t budge, instead pushing Axel back down.
Frustration. He didn’t get why the younger man didn’t understand. “…Axel, I can’t just… fuck you…” he mumbled, hating the fact that he sounded so childish. But still, he needed to get it out in the open. “I can’t. Because I lo—”
Axel cut him off with a punch in the face.
Demyx felt the skin on his lip break. He felt the blood dribble down his chin. Even so, he couldn’t hate the red head for it. The musician knew it was coming; he’d screwed up. But everyone deserved a second chance, right?
“Don’t even fucking think about saying that,” said Axel, his voice dripping with venom. The dirty blonde sighed, making a move to get off of the couch. He was held back, however. “I didn’t say you had to leave. Just don’t tell me that.”
He always hated hearing those words.
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