A/n: Wow, I think this is the first chaptered thing I've put up here. So, let's see how ya'll enjoy it. There's about three more chapter to this guy, so if you like, please please review, or I will not be posting them up. Yes, I'm attempting to use scare tactics on you. So review, and we can all be happy.
Disclaimer: I don't own Kingdom Hearts, won't pretend that I do for even a second, so there's really no need to sue.
Living with Roxas has been…complicated. I think that would be the best word. You see, the fact we're together shocks most people. I can see where they're coming from, of course. Orphaned Axel who's never worked a day in his life, but simply leeching off of his dead parent's money, and Roxas, boy genius who happens to be an emancipated minor.
I grew up in a very nurturing environment. My mother would've done anything, within reason, for me. My dad still played catch with me up until the day he died with me, even though his only child preferred guys. I got a decent allowance, I was given my own car after I paid for half of it, and I had been grounded countless times. My parents understood that I didn't know what to do with my life at nineteen, completely understood why I hadn't made up my mind as to how I was going to spend the next fifty years of my life. Yes, they still pressured me to go to the local community college to take some classes. But they had never backed me into a corner to make my decision.
Now, I really didn't need to. My parents' were loaded, and I received every single penny when they died last year. I had over ten million sitting in the bank, three cars, and a paid off house. I was set for life. The world was literally at my finger tips, I could just sit at home all day long, doing nothing. And that's basically what I did.
My dad's business was now in my name. Axel Flynn, at age nineteen, became the youngest owner of a multimillion company. My father's business took up an entire floor in the Sears Tower, and catered to such Chicago-based celebrities as Oprah and Michael Jordan. My father had started it from scratch, and knew everything under the sun about the stock market. And so, he started his business, and it grew into what it was today. And though I own it, I have little to do with how its run. Once a month or so, I get a stack of papers I have to sign, and that's that.
There were only a few perks that came with being under the age of thirty and a millionaire. Not having to work, and the occasional paparazzi. But they seemed to leave me alone for the most part, and only really took photos when I was out in town. Thing was, I lived in the 'burbs, so I didn't ever get into the papers or tabloids. Though a while back I was in Chicago Magazine, there was a photo shoot and everything. My friends still make fun of me for that one. I don't mind the attention, and I really don't mind not being in the papers.
So how did rich boy meet Roxas? We had the same math class at the college. Roxas shipped there by his school, me forced by my parents. I hated math, and Roxas, four years my junior, loved it. He was only fifteen to my nineteen, back when we met and apparently already seeking out a lawyer.
I had never asked him why he had decided to get emancipated. And yet he is, and currently living in one of the many spare rooms of my house.
So now, at twenty, Roxas was currently sixteen and upstairs, locked in the toilet. Apparently being violently sick from something or another his school had decided to serve the poor boy. I swear, the toilet was flushing about every five minutes on the dot, very prompt and orderly. Roxas could even make a schedule for vomiting. I'm guessing it was one of those burritos his normally raved about. Personally, anything that comes in hot pocket form from the USDA can't be too good for you. But Roxas continued to be an over worked cheapskate.
I offered the kid five dollars for lunch every day. I left it on the counter, willing him to take it with happy colorful post-it notes. I offered to make him lunch. And every day I was turned down by that look. It's like the mutant hybrid child of a scowl and general annoyance. Honestly, I get that look about fifteen times a day.
Roxas flushed the toilet again, and I sadly contemplated the idea of eating my hard earned McDonalds meal all by my lonesome. Normally I'd make or get dinner for us before Roxas would rush off for his shift at the local video store. But by the look of things, he wouldn't be getting any dinner, or be going into work today. Sometimes I wonder if we still actually live together let alone date.
Every day I wake up at noon, get on my computer, update my stocks for about two hours before setting myself in living room watching cartoons and waiting for Roxas to arrive home from school. Normally I'd get a hello before he would rush off to his room or study to finish up his homework. He'll work until seven, and by that time I need dinner on the table.
At seven, he descends from upstairs, eats his dinner already dressed for work before rushing off. I check my stocks yet again before settling into the newly converted library, which use to be a guest room, with my newest find. Roxas arrives home at one.
Depending on my state of awareness, he'll wake me up, send me off to bed, or throw a blanket over me and remove my reading glasses. Not once has he ever made the offer to come to bed with me. Not once has he decided I'd like a goodnight kiss. I consider myself lucky if I get more than ten words out of him in one day.
And this is how our life goes. I sit at home, cook and read. Roxas goes to school, studies, and works. Our schedules…clash.
The toilet is flushed again, and I've finally given up on the idea of dinner. I stick the greasy, now see through, bags in the refrigerator, before fishing around in a cabinet for some pepto-bismol. Two pills, a glass of water and a dark room. …And a bucket. I thought absently, ducking into the laundry room to grab one. The only cure I knew. Every time my stomach had been that violently ill a few pills of pepto seemed to be my mother's cure.
I first ventured into Roxas's abnormally clean room, throwing some blankets over his clock and electronic devices, and unplugging surge cords. I also drew the curtains before knocking cautiously on the bathroom door, only to meet the sounds of Roxas retching some more. Slowly, I opened the door and poked my head inside.
It wasn't a pretty sight. Roxas clung to the toilet for dear life, head bowed over the rim. Something foul was dripping down his chin, and if I didn't know any better I'd say he was suffering from a rather bad hangover. But Roxas isn't the type of kid to have hollowed out a perfectly good textbook so he could take shots during class.
"Let's get you out of here." I said, bending over him and wiping his face off with a spare cloth lying on the counter. Roxas looked pitifully up at me, and I couldn't stop the smile that was spreading over my face. I helped him up before dragging him over to his room and settling him into bed. "You'll need to take them both." I said, handing him the pills with the glass.
He downed them in one gulp. Roxas had always been good about taking tablets. I was always afraid I was going to choke on them. Most of the time I ended up smashing them up and mixing it in with applesauce or something, Roxas got a kick out of it.
"Call me in sick?" He whispered, voice cracking slightly. I nodded, a complete lie, as I carefully stroked his head.
"So big." I said, grinning, as he lifted up his arms. I removed the blockbuster shirt, and threw it on the ground. "Hips." I said, and poked as his skinny bones. He raised them for me as I stripped off his pants as well. They soon joined the shirt on the floor, and I carefully tucked him into bed.
"I'm not a kid, Axel."
"That doesn't mean I can't take care of you. I'm allowed to take care of you if you're tossing your cookies every minute."
"Am not…" He replied rather sulkily as I settled myself next to him, sitting on the end of his bed, my hands back in his hair. I ran them threw the blond strands, carefully untangling them. "Want me to stay?" I hopped he would say yes. I never got to see him this much, and absolutely hadn't even been this intimate with him in ages. Yeah…intimate as it just touching him. God, our lives were so boring. I felt like Roxas was wearing a chastity belt or something. But it wasn't even that, he didn't even have time to kiss me goodnight.
I sighed, pulling his head into my lap.
"I'll kill you if you puke on me. Just tell me if you need the bucket." He nodded, and I could tell he was already beginning to get sleepy, which I supposed was a good thing. His baby blue's at half mast.
So Roxas fell asleep, snuggled up in my lap, and I continued to stroke his hair until I too was nodding off. I seriously contemplated getting into bed with him, and finally being able to snuggle with the boy. I thought better of it though, and went into my own room, setting my alarm for earlier then I'd been up in the last two years.
At six, I woke up and picked up the phone. I dialed Roxas's school and called him in sick. I was sure for a moment that they wouldn't accept the excuse.
"I'm calling Roxas Thomas in ill. What do you mean I can't? Me? I'm Axel Flynn. Yes, that Axel Flynn. …I'm perfectly aware I graduated two years ago. What? He's my housemate. I know he's only sixteen. He's emancipated. Do you know what that means? I see, yes. Thank you." Rubbing my temples I glanced at the clock, 6:07. Great. I stood up, and carefully stretched, popping my back as I did so.
Silently, I snuck into Roxas's room, and grabbed the bucket. Thankfully there wasn't much in there, and I was able to clean it up in the bathroom via tub. When I placed the bucket back at the side of his bed, though I was pretty sure he wouldn't need it anymore (unless he had eaten fifty of those damned burritos). I readjusted his covers, before taping a note up on his door. Informing Roxas he had the day off, so no need to freak out when he woke up at nine realizing he was late for school.
Making sure he was all situated, I crept back into my own room and fell almost instantly asleep. I snuggled into my pillows, praying I'd wake up at a decent hour. Like noon-ish…or three. That'd be nice. I could wake right up to some good cartoons… and maybe Roxas would've made me lunch. That'd be awesome.
When I did wake up again, it wasn't at a decent hour. It was to slender arms slipping around my waste as Roxas settled into next to me. I continued to fake sleep, as he pressed soft kisses up my arms and jaw line. He stared down at me scrutinizing, studying his handy work, before drifting off back to sleep. Arms still firmly around me, and a small smile plastered on his face.
I was afraid to turn over, and was only able to cock my head to the side a little, drinking in the peaceful look on his face. As he snuggled into my back, pressing his face up against my spine, and sighed contently, I figured it was okay.
It's okay we're not together 24/7. It's okay I don't get hold him, or kiss him as often as I would like. It was okay that we hadn't taken the 'next step' yet. Because it made moments like this all the sweeter. And really, Roxas was worth waiting for.
A/n: Remember to review! I would like three...that'd be really nice. And of course, more would be even better. So, if you like it, review and you'll get the other chapters!