This is a fic about many things, really. Summer jobs, boxing, music. Coming out. Staying in. The concept of family wanders in and sticks around in its various forms. I’d say it’s a story about love, but that’s a little too cheesy, don’t you think? I like to avoid that when I can.

Simply put, it’s a story. You can expect such things as het, slash and femmeslash. I like to cover my bases. This is indeed a rewritten version of an older fic of mine by the same name. I do hope you enjoy it ^_^ I’ve put the rating at a ‘T’ for now, but that could go up, depending on how brave I’m feeling.

Chapter One!

xXx

“All right, brats, dinner’s on the table.”

In some families, it was a tradition to have takeout every Friday evening.

“Yay! Real food!” Sora Strife crowed, leaping over the back of the couch and skidding into the dining room.

In the Strife household, it was the other way around. Come Friday night and Tifa Lockheart would show up on the doorstep, complete with cooking utensils, to make sure that the four males living there had their weekly serving of vegetables. Cloud Strife was many things; a cook, he was not.

Sora’s disappearance left an uncomfortable space between his twin and best friend on the couch. There was a faint pause as Roxas and Riku just sat there, neither one of them wanting to be the one to break and get up, before Tifa appeared in the doorway.

“Boys? Are you two coming? If you don’t hurry, Sora’s going to eat all the food.”

Riku crossed his arms. Roxas huffed. Both of them exchanged a look out of the corner of their eye, and with a complicated series of grunts only teenage boys were capable of understanding, declared a truce and stood up at precisely the same time.

Tifa shook her head, following them into the dining room. “Boys,” she sighed, taking her seat next to Cloud. “How was your day?” she asked.

He grunted. Sora paused in the act of shovelling food into his mouth and stared.

“You mean you actually had a good day?”

Okay, so maybe it wasn’t just a language that only teenage boys understood. It appeared to be universally male.

“Sora, don’t talk with your mouth full,” Tifa chided.

“It’s disgusting,” Roxas agreed, flicking a pea at Sora when his twin purposefully let his mouth hang open. Riku caught the pea before it made contact and tossed it back.

“Sora, stop that.” The younger boy’s mouth clicked shut immediately. “Don’t be an idiot, Roxas,” Riku sighed.

“Don’t be an asshole, Riku,” Roxas shot back, tossing his fork as well as his retort.

“No throwing cutlery at the dinner table,” Cloud ordered, and it all devolved into the inevitable food fight from there.

“Did you have a good day?” Tifa asked Cloud quietly, batting away a piece of broccoli before it made contact with her nose.

Cloud’s hands snapped out, grabbing Sora by the neck of his shirt as he ran around the table, and Roxas by the hem when he gave chase. “Sit,” he ordered. “You’re annoying Tifa.”

“Actually, she doesn’t look too bothered!” Sora laughed.

Cloud gave his younger brother a flat stare. “You’re annoying me. Now sit down and eat.”

Tifa looked at the twins and stifled a giggle. Sora had a lump of mashed potato hanging from his hair, and there was tomato sauce smeared across Roxas’ face. Riku had managed to stay mostly clean, but that was more of a result of Sora’s heroic saves than any efforts he’d made at getting out of the way (that would be showing weakness). To his credit, other than the initial throwing of the pea, he’d stayed largely out of the whole mess.

“I’m not sure that there’s any food left for them to eat, Cloud,” Tifa laughed. “Come on – boys, you clean up here, Cloud, come and help me with dessert in the kitchen.”

The boys were smart enough to know when not to argue. “Yes, Tifa,” the three teenagers chorused. It would have been adorable if they were ten years younger. As it was, Tifa indulged the barest brush of suspicion and then let it go, turning to Cloud.

“Well?”

He stared flatly at her. “I’m not going into the kitchen.”

“Tifa, no! Don’t let him near the pie, Cloud ruins any food within a ten foot radius of him!” Sora flailed past, condiments in hand. A blob of barbecue sauce squirted from the bottle to land a bulls-eye on Riku’s forehead. The silver-haired teen gave the sigh of one long suffering and used Roxas’ sleeve to wipe it off. Considering that Roxas’ sleeve was still attached to Roxas himself, the only thing that stopped Riku from getting a fist to the face was Cloud’s warning grunt. Even Tifa understood that one.

“Boys, play nice,” she insisted. “Or no dessert. Sora, lid down on the sauce. Riku, there’s a napkin on the table, and Roxas – don’t hit him too hard.”

“Hey!” Riku cried as Roxas socked him in the shoulder. Tifa rolled her eyes and grabbed a hold of Cloud’s arm, jerking him out of his seat and steering him towards the kitchen.

“Cloud. It’s a pie. It will not spontaneously combust if you look at it. It will not disintegrate if you touch it.”

There was a pause in which Tifa heard Riku and Roxas sniping at each other in the dining room. “You don’t know that,” Cloud said finally.

“It’s a pie. And you are going to cut it for me.”

“...Fine.” Unspoken went the ‘but I blame you if anything happens’.

Eventually, the boys cleared up their mess and Tifa presented the pie (apple, only slightly mutilated) with a generous helping of whipped cream.

“So tell me,” she said as they all settled down to eat again. “How are the jobs going, boys? Not fired yet, I hope.”

Summer on Destiny Isles meant one thing: Tourists. In turn, tourists meant jobs, and jobs meant teenagers scrambling to earn enough money to support themselves in an appropriate style over the holidays.

“Riku’s still stuck in Merlin’s old bookstore,” Sora announced, reach for another slice of pie. “Dunno how he stands it.”

“Sora, you haven’t finished your first piece yet,” Riku said, knocking his hand away. “And I like it at Merlin’s. I get paid more than you do at Scrooge’s, and I don’t have to wear a stupid uniform like Roxas.” A pause, and probably everyone except Sora knew what was coming next. “Of course, that could just be—”

Roxas tossed a spoon at Riku. “Yeah, we all know you think I’m a retard. I still earn more than you though.”

Riku rolled his eyes, catching the spoon with the same dexterity that he'd caught the pea, before using it to eat his own pie. Roxas remained spoonless. “I guess bright orange suits some people. Too bad you're not one of them.” He took a sip of water.

“No throwing cutlery at the dinner table,” Cloud said abruptly. He was summarily ignored.

“Yeah, well you would know, wouldn't you?” Roxas retorted, making an overly exaggerated limp-wrist gesture. “Sorry if my uniform is so offensive, but some of us can't afford to have daddy bail us out every time the going gets rough.”

Riku, about to set his glass back down, somehow missed the table. The crash crash of glass meeting hardwood floor was even louder due to the sudden silence that had fallen over the table. Even Sora was quiet.

Tife was the first to speak. “Riku—”

He stood, face blank. “Sorry, Tifa. I'll get a tea towel.”

“Oh no, it's fine.” She pushed her chair back.

A pause. “...I'll get a tea towel,” Riku repeated, standing and heading to the kitchen without further word.

“Roooooooooooxas,” Sora groaned, face thunking into his plate as Cloud thwapped the blonde twin upside the head.

“Ow, what?” Roxas demanded defensively. The look on his face, however, was vaguely guilty, if defiant.

Riku's father, to say the least, was out of bounds as a topic of discussion in the Strife household.

“Just eat your pie,” Cloud ordered. “Sora, get your head out of your pie.”

Sora lifted his head, confused, with a smear of cream adorning his fringe.

Riku reentered the room the room, and there was a flurry of motion as everyone attempted to pretend nothing had happened. Tifa and Cloud resumed eating as Sora flapped his wrist in front of Roxas, the cream in his hair making him look all the more ridiculous. “What is that?” he demanded. “You're gay too!”

Roxas opened his mouth to retort, caught sight of the look on Cloud's face and decided he wanted to live to insult their house-guest another day. Sora's question went unanswered as Riku tossed a tea towel at his face before bending to mop up his mess with a second one.

“Wh-what was that for?” Sora wailed against the distinct crunch of Riku wrapping glass in newspaper.

“You have cream in your hair.”

Tifa smiled, shaking her head as Sora scrubbed at his hair. How she had ended up mothering such a troublesome group of males, she didn't know. She glanced sidelong at Cloud, who was frowning vaguely at his pie crust, and reconsidered. She knew exactly how she'd become a part of this slightly dysfunctional family.

“Tifa?” Sora's voice startled her out of her reverie as Riku left the room, presumably to dispose of the glass. “What're you thinking about?”

“Hmm? Oh – nothing in particular.” She smiled at him. “What are you thinking about?”

Sora looked furtively from side to side, making sure Riku was out of the room before leaning closer to her. “Thinking about another piece of pie.”

Tifa was startled into laughter. “Quick, then! Before Riku gets back.” For whatever reason, Riku was incredibly protective of Sora. Probably not to the point of controlling how much apple pie he ate, but one could never be too sure, and Sora thrived on adventure anyway.

Next to him, Roxas rolled his eyes as Tifa dished up Sora another slice. She raised an eyebrow at the younger twin. “Now, Roxas, don't be like that,” she warned. “If you ask nicely, you can have some more too.”

This time, it was her turn to have a spoon thrown at her. She laughed, catching it easily.

“No throwing--”

Tifa tossed the spoon back, scoring a direct hit to Roxas' forehead. There was a loud crash as Sora tipped backwards off his chair, he was laughing so hard.

“...cutlery at the dinner table,” Cloud finished, looking more resigned to the chaos that had erupted once again. “Maybe I should just make you all eat with your fingers.”

Sora's head popped up over the edge of the table. “Could you?”

“You know, I'm pretty sure Mum said something about keeping you around more civilised company when she sent you two here.” Cloud turned to Tifa. “You were there. Didn't you hear my mother say something about civilised?”

“Actually, she only sent Roxas,” Sora announced before Tifa could reply, clambering back into his chair. “I volunteered, remember?”

Roxas sunk down in his chair a little. He wasn't too fond of being reminded that he wasn't exactly in the Isles by choice.

“You don't think I'm civilised, Cloud?” Tifa asked.

“You just threw a spoon at my brother.”

“...Cloud, with the amount of disasters that happen around, on, or under this table, is throwing cutlery really the only thing thing you feel the need to have a strict rule against?”

Cloud gave her a look that very clearly said he was feeling betrayed. Tifa kicked him under the table, and turned to Roxas, trying to get him up out of that chair a little.

“Speaking of civilised people, or lack thereof,” she directed at the younger blond. “When is our favourite fire-starter moving over? Axel's due this week, isn't he?”

The sound of shattering glass drew everyone's attention for the second time that night.

“Shit,” Riku muttered from the kitchen doorway, staring down at the remnants of a second glass of water.

“Ri-ku,” Sora sighed. When Sora was sighing over someone's clumsiness like that, you knew it was fairly serious.

The silver-haired teen glanced up. “...Sorry, Sora,” he said. “Uh, Tifa. Cloud.” He couldn't resist giving Roxas a pointed look to make sure he was being deliberately not-apologised to. Roxas flipped him the bird while everyone's attention was diverted. “I'll just—”

“Sit down, Riku. I'll do it,” Tifa said, standing up.

“I'd do what she says, Riku, she's wearing her scary-mum-face again,” Sora chirped.

“I am not!” she protested. “Cloud, tell your brother I do not look like your mother.”

“Can't do that,” he mumbled, not meeting her eyes. “It's true.”

By this stage, Riku had deemed it prudent to sit down. Sora nudged him in the side as Tifa started clearing up the glass. “What, do you have butter on your fingers or something? You're never that clumsy! I'm never that clumsy.”

“No butter,” Riku replied easily, stealing Roxas' glass of water. “Hearing the word 'civilized' and 'Axel' is just a shock to the system, even with the 'lack thereof' separating them.”

Roxas rolled his eyes for the second time that evening. “Here we go,” he muttered. “Are you ever going to find something new to bitch about?”

Riku sneered back, not deigning to answer as he went to take a sip of Roxas' water. Before the glass reached his lips, however, Sora swiped it out of his hand.

“Sora!” Oddly enough, it was Roxas who protested.

“You spat in it!”

“It's not my fault he's an ass who goes around stealing people's water. Why don't you take my side for once, huh?” Roxas glared.

Sora blinked. “I wasn't taking any sides! I just didn’t want Riku drinking your spit-water.” He made a face. “That’s so gross.”

Roxas shrugged, pointedly drinking the water. “My spit.” He smirked over at Riku. “Bet Axel would’ve noticed I’d done it.”

Riku’s jaw clenched. “Bet Axel would’ve drunk it anyway,” he shot back. “God knows he’s desperate enough to—”

“Enough!” Uncharacteristically, Sora snapped at the both of them. Well, not snapped. It was more of a forceful pout than anything else, but it was also more serious displeasure in a single look than he usually managed over the course of a day. Two days, if he’d had a good night’s sleep. Roxas and Riku were suitably chastened, although they managed to exchange one last glare without Sora noticing. “Roxas, quit being mean. Riku – quit being mean back. And the other way around!” he added before Roxas could complain. “Jeez, the way you two always argue about him, you’d think that both of you were in love, instead of neither of you!” Sora blinked again, then frowned, suddenly worried. “You’re not, are you? Because him moving here is going to be bad enough with all the fighting without—”

“He’s doing what!?” This time, thankfully, Riku was missing a glass of water to punctuate his sentence with.

Both Sora and Roxas stared. The beginnings of another smirk began to spread across Roxas’ face.

Across the table, Cloud watched the three teenage boys with a growing sense of doom. “Why me?”

Tifa returned from her clean-up mission, placing her hands on Cloud’s shoulders. “Look at it this way. At least things are never boring?”

Cloud groaned.