First inspired by Sheri Joseph's Bear me Safely Over, this fic practically flew outta me. It's just one of those peices that flow, yano? Even if it's third person and I'm not really familiar with the point of view. So here it is, for your viewing pleasure . Usual reminder of characters-do-not-belong-to-me and warnings of gay sex, swearing, violence, and all the sinful things you're all worried about .
They first meet at party, like three quarters of the population in their small town. He catches the blond's eye and curves a smirk, and the boy who is drinking from a plastic cup spits out the alcohol and starts a coughing fit in the middle of the kitchen. Axel and his friends laugh like hyenas and they drift through the party, celebrities of the school receiving their peers' high fives and adoration.
Teasing a fag, Demyx giggles in his ear, teeth chattering from the E they did in the parking lot, never gets old.
They stay at the party for hours with out seeing the blond haired kid, even if it is a small house, and Axel gets a blow job in the bathroom from some nameless girl that giggled every time he swore before they all decide to leave. By that time, light is already peeking over the horizon and everyone is sobering up.
They ride around in Luxord's car, giggling like crows over a corpse and stop at a 7-eleven to grab some slush, smokes, and doritos. Axel makes to go around the back, to smoke a joint well Demyx tries to get lucky with a girl that has big tits and a purple bikini top on. Luxord had booked it with his girlfriend the second they had stepped out of the car. He grumbles, cursing the both of them as he turns around the corner. When he looks up, he realizes he had walked in on an apparent... session.
There's some blond haired kid being fucked by a geezer with black and grey hair, and they're rutting like fucking animals. The red head almost admires the guts of the couple before he notices which kid it is.
The kid who is making high, needy moans, panting like he's dehydrated, rolling his hips shakily into the older man's, long legs and dainty feet pressing into the other guy's ass to urge him on... That kid is the one he made spit out his booze at that party.
The boy takes notice of him finally, standing there like the Tower of Pisa, and locks eyes with him. Shit, they're not even hazy with drugs or booze or any other stupid things teenagers do. They're clear as crystal, a little foggy from being fucked, and God- Axel feels a hot stirring in between his legs that frightens him.
It must be something on his face because the boy gives a shaky smile and moans louder than he had been before- and he talks, and the stirring is a little stronger then it should be at the honey laced poisonous way he says it. "Oh, fuck, yes- f-fuck, harder, ooh."
The boy keeps his eyes open blissfully, drilling into him, panting hard. His eyes are still staring into Axel's when he bucks his hips hard, and he hears the older man hiss out a low "Ffffuuuuccckkk..."
Axel turns away, unsure of how to react anymore, and walks around the side of the building, meeting up with Demyx at the front; the first thing he does is joke about how the other boy didn't get lucky with the chick with big tits. They chat for awhile, wait for Luxord and his girl to stop fucking- at least, that's what Axel believes and tells himself. His eyes happen to stray to the side just as the blond and the old man come out. Demyx notices him staring and whips around, still a little drunk.
He can feel the grin on the boy's face before he breaks out, loud and annoying. Axel has never wanted to punch him more. "Rrrrroooxxxaaassss! You just get paid?"
The dirty blond breaks out in laughter, and Roxas- the blond kid, Axel is still realizing- doesn't even look at him or dignify him with a response. The old guy with him has an eye patch and just flips them the bird before heading toward a semi truck and climbing in. Something clicks in his head when Roxas climbs into the other side.
This is when Luxord deems to arrive, sly curve gracing his lips and girlie gone. Axel ditches to the front, leaving Demyx whining in the back, and watches the red truck drive off into the distance with the side mirror, heading towards Hollow Bastion.
The next time he sees the boy, he's walking down the highway, back to the oncoming traffic and thumb sticking out. He's wearing these ridiculous shorts with checkers on them, a blue wife beater, a funky little black hat hanging off his head and keeping his eyes protected from the sun. The rest of him is shiny, lean, and erotically curved- Axel chokes in a breath, imagines fucking him for two seconds before Luxord leans out the window and throws a full glass of coca cola.
The glass splatters at his feet in an explosion of glass and sunlight- he stops, grimacing, and everyone in the back opens their windows and jeers at him, calling him faggot, fairy, fucked-up. Axel just laughs, and watches him through the review mirror as he drives down the high way.
They all talk about the boy, but move onto other topics for the rest of the trip to Hollow Bastion. All the tall boy can think about is that the blond wasn't wearing any shoes.
Axel doesn't know how, but he sees the boy again, later- about three o' clock in the morning, after partying with his friends. Demyx has disappeared, Larxene and Marluxia are fucking on the couch in the apartment his uncle owns, and Luxord is passed out on the kitchen floor. Axel just felt like walking.
And he walks for about fifty-six blocks before he ends up in a park, half-cut but still going. He takes a minute to relax on a park bench and watches the couples pass by. It's about the fifth pair holding hands when he finally realizes that this is where all the gay boys come to hook up.
He panics- half remembers a month or so ago, jerking hips and drilling eyes, the stirring in between his legs- and moves to get up. Of course, Karma is a Bitch, and he hears a noise of recognition.
"Ah, ah... Fuck... Axel? Axel, right?"
And then there's the kid. His outfit has changed, the wife beater is still there but, fuck, the shorts got smaller. They barely brush the middle of his thighs, and they're all checkered now- Axel snaps his eyes up and sees a sheen of light on the blondy's lips, even if the only light is a street light about two hundred feet away. His hair is even softer looking.
And fuck, the eyes are still damn bright and piercing. The stirring comes back with a vengeance akin to that of God's.
He stays silent, watches the kid chew his lip. The glint comes off a little, and Axel snaps back to reality. Remembers that Roxas is only sixteen, from what he's heard from Demyx and Larxene.
"You, uh, need help? Or something?"
The kid is almost deliciously awkward, like a lamb that knows what it's supposed to do to walk but can't quite get the hang of it.
Axel makes a garbled noise, something close to a "No". Roxas just ends up shrugging a minute later, walking away, hips swaying with the breeze. Next thing Axel knows, he's following him to a little storehouse hidden in the shadows. He doesn't even want to think about how Roxas knows it's there, because the little building is hardly visible even five feet in front of his face.
Roxas sways all the way to the back, into the shadows. Axel follows because he's always wanted what he shouldn't.
He walks into the shadows and slides against the wall, the muscles in his back coiled tight against the shabby siding. He can't see where the blond is but instead feels him- the way his eyes are sharp against the dark, the way the heat radiates off of him, his thighs, his hands. Feels the sheen on his lips, breathing into him.
In reality the blond is leaning against the wall opposite him, arms crossed, chewing his lip. He makes a motion as if moving a piece of candy from one side of his mouth to the other, and Axel shivers, breathing shallow.
They don't say anything until Roxas takes a step forward- only then Axel utters a "Don't", breathing still not entirely even. He blames it on the alcohol.
A change seems to come over the blond- he glares at him (again, this is all Axel feels), and takes a few steps forward. The red head makes a sound of disapproval, pressing himself further into the building. A nail scrapes his neck.
"What do you want?" Roxas hisses, stepping closer. An inch more and they'd be touching chests, lips a breath away, hips brushing. "I don't understand. You followed me here. You throw bottles at me. You watch me fuck."
Axel chokes on his own spit.
A smile curves on Roxas' lips, his eyes lidded halfway- his hands come up to rest a millimeter away from Axel's shoulders. "What? You remember that then?"
And then the kid is dragging his hands, feather light, over the redhead's chest. His mouth is so close to Axel's that they're breathing each others air. His hips twitch and brush against Roxas'- and then, shit, a shock of pleasure and the blond is hissing into his mouth.
"Do you want to fuck?"
The last part is said so fucking deliciously, so fucking erotically, that Axel draws in a breath, and with it, Roxas' lips.
It's more a press, and the blond's hands have settled on his hips, tracing his bones in slow, lazy circles.
The kid's tongue darts out and he slams the back of his head into the shack, feels it shudder and groan, and a laugh against his lips.
He pushes the kid away, punches him square in the jaw, and runs, hoping to God that there's no gloss on his lips.
His hips are still burning when he goes out the next night and fucks a girl that has blond hair and blue eyes, and her name sounds nothing like Roxas'. In the end, he takes her number, scrawled on his arm in red ink, and leaves, hocking promises with sly smirks and sly hands.
He returns to the apartment and throws up into the toilet till dawn.
"Did you enjoy your weekend?" Vincent asks, reading the paper at the table. His eyes never leave the small print, and Axel wonders how his father can read the paper in the dark when he's half blind.
"Yeah." Axel replies, running a hand through his hair- the black roots are starting to show. He doesn't say anything more, just waits for his father to ask him another question.
His father sips at his tea, setting down the paper. "I told you I don't want you getting any more piercings. That tattoo was enough."
Axel shrugs, and resists the urge to play with the new earring hanging from his left ear or to touch the tear shapes on his cheeks. "I know. I was drunk."
"Take it out." Vincent says calmly, smoothing the pages of the paper on the table. He's pissed, that's as much as Axel can tell. His father doesn't stop reading the paper for anything but pissed.
Axel shrugs, reaching into the fridge. "Later."
He doesn't even straighten when he feels his father's cold hand tugging at the piece of metal. He tugs hard, so much that it stings like the needles he got in his ass when he was a kid after he broke his arm from falling off the roof.
"Now." Vincent says harshly. "I don't want any damn fairies in my house, and you look like a goddamn fairy."
He refuses to wince- instead, he waits for the other man to let go of his ear. He brings steady hands up and pushes out the ball, letting it clatter to the floor and roll away where it will never be found again.
He pushes the ring quickly, feels the blood trickle down his neck from the roughness he uses to take it out, and pockets the ring. He feels Vincent's approving gaze and the man heads to the door. He takes a second to look back at him, black hair tied tightly in a pony tail.
"I won't have you become like your damn brother." He says, quietly, then he leaves the room to head to work.
Axel waits for the door to close quietly before he brings the milk carton to his lips and drinks directly from it, smirking softly into the liquid.
Always his father, he thinks sardonically. Never his dad.
He heads to 7-eleven at two o' clock in the morning because he's restless and he damn well wants some food. His dad is still out, probably still working, and he doesn't feel like sleeping anytime soon.
He gets wedges and a sour cream, doesn't get ID'd for cigarette papers, and heads to the back to roll a joint. He had some pot earlier, but the smoke tastes like dead ash in his mouth. Like someone took grass clippings, set them on fire, and placed them on his tongue to burn.
Of course the kid'd be there when he turned the corner- he knew he would be, in the back in his mind- and he absent mindedly brings the palm of his right hand and brushes it against his lips, trying to find a ghost of lip gloss spread across the pale skin.
The kid is just sitting on a crate pulled from near the garbages and he's already smoking a joint. It smells a little different, and when the kid turns towards him his pupils are dilated, sunk into the color of his eyes, so that all Axel sees is an endless void of blue, violet, and lust.
Fuck, Axel thinks, bringing his hand down. The kid does drugs. The kid's smoking a joint. The kids smoking a joint laced with cocaine.
He tries not to turn back and run around the corner- that's totally not an Axel move- so he instead sits down near the corner, minding the broken glass, and lights up a smoke instead. He avoids the kid's eyes and tries not to brush his palm against his lips again.
The kid just watches him, and his leg is jittery, bouncing up and down like a speed train gone vertical. He moves in spasms and slips. It takes him two minutes to get to Axel's side, fingers brushing against his jeans. Axel ignores him, keeps on smoking.
"Ya'know," the kid starts off, eyes lidded again, face tilted up towards Axel's. He's leaning over him, not touching, and Axel thinks: if he were a girl, I'd be getting a good shot of tits right now.
"Ya'know," He repeats, seeming to forget he said it before. His eyebrow spasms- there's a glint of silver in his left ear. "I don't care, if yer a homophobic. Fucking is fucking, ya'know? It doesn't matter if I have cock. You can take me from behind. You don't even haveta kiss me. If you don't a condom, that's good, too. I'an be fucked dry, I done it before."
He skips over letters and words and his lips are close again, ghosting over Axel's wrist as he brings it up to inhale nicotine. Drive another nail into his coffin.
Roxas- Roxas breathes, a long, drawn out breath, and Axel throws the coffin nail away from him and slams him against the wall, biting his shoulder so hard he tastes metallic blood in his mouth. Roxas makes a noise, arches a bit, and he grabs his wrist roughly and jerks him so his hands are forced to splay across the concrete wall at the back of 7-eleven.
He forces the kids pants down and spits on his hand- all he's learned from watching anal porn- slicks his half-hard dick, and shoves it into the kid's asshole.
Oh, fuck, he thinks, this feels vulgar. Gross. Fucking fairy.
He growls into the boy's ear and Roxas arches his neck, fingernails scrapping against the wall. He makes a low, keeling whine, panting hard, tongue licking his lips. If they were facing each other, Axel thinks, this'd be much fucking better- he could see the kid's face as he fucks him hard, feel the vengeance of his nails on his back, maybe trace the vulnerable line of his throat with his teeth. Taste under his Adam's apple.
Axel shoves into him harder, thrusts sporadic. Roxas just moves his hips back, moaning, hissing out words that shouldn't mean anything to him. "Fuck, oh, yes. You're good, fuck me... Oh, fuck, yes..."
No names are said, but fuck, Axel wants to come so bad- he feels like the kid's tight ass is preventing him from doing that. He bites the kid's shoulder instead, and Roxas' gasp rolls down his throat, settling into his spine. He comes hard, finally, with a jerk of hips and an uttered "Fuck..." resounding across the walls like whispers.
Roxas doesn't come- he knows that much because he can still feel the sporadic twitch of his hips. He knows because Roxas grabs his hand and his fingers brush a cock that isn't is own.
He jerks his hand away, but the blond won't let go- Axel digs his nails into the kid's balls at the first chance he gets, and when he lets out a gasp of surprise and pain and lets go, he books it, pulling up his pants desperately and trying to look as dignified as he can while stumbling to his truck.
Half a mile down the road he pulls the truck over to the side of the road and dry heaves in big, gasping breathes that leave his throat hurting and his world tilting.
Two weeks passes and he doesn't even see the kid once- not until the school bell rings and he catches a flash of bright blond hair, sunlight bouncing off the strands. It's just a glimpse, though, and then it's gone until lunch.
Axel thinks that he and his friends are at the pinnacle of fucking Godliness in this hell hole of a school. He wouldn't be far from the truth, he knows. Selphie, one of the cheerleaders he fucked, moves over to let him sit at the table she was saving for her friends and scurries away, winking with a brush of a manicured hand across his forearm.
He brings his palm up to his face and presses it against his lips, leaning against it. It's become a nervous habit of his. Not that any of his friend's notice, what with high school drama flying left and right- they just laugh, obnoxious as always, and Larxene grins at him, lightening sharp.
"Aw, man, christ, did you hear what Demyx did to that little blond faggot? Ya know the one who you and Dem caught fucking some old man?"
Axel snaps to attention- actual attention, because the blonde demon would throttle him if he wasn't paying an iota of it before, and he grins slyly. His eyes spark with interest; his tongue darts out to lick the faint lines running across the curve of palm into wrist. "What'd the retard do? Write a love note?"
Larxene laughs, viciously. Her laugh is the only one Axel'd be afraid to hear in a dark room at night. "You'll see. It's fucking priceless."
And it is, when the kid comes walking into the room. There's a faint blush gracing his cheeks but his head is held high when he waltzes into the cafeteria, sporting a low cut dress that's royal blue. He has no shoes on, Axel notices is, and he briefly wonders if the kid just hates shoes that much.
The cafeteria is silent as he waltzes in- graceful like he shouldn't be, walking like the fairy he is. It's almost a crime, he thinks, how the kid has enough confidence to walk into a high school with a dress on.
It's only when some other bully- Wakka, he thinks his name is- pushes the blond to the floor. He goes flying, being so small compared to the blitz ball club's captain, and he makes a loud, wiping noise as he sails across the floor.
Wakka smirks, calls him a fairy, and walks off with Selphie under his arm. By this time, Roxas has gotten up and the whole cafeteria is laughing. He leaves quietly, with his dignity, and it's like he always wore that dress anyway.
Two things come to Axel's mind: one, he's declaring war on all the homophobes of the school, and two, the kid caught him staring.
And war it is. For the next month, the kid is beaten, shoved into lockers, and taunted openly. The teachers do nothing about it until his parents- small, timid looking people- come into the school. No one knows what happened, but the principal suddenly puts a stop to the ignored bullying and then the kid is left relatively free as he pleases.
That is until Axel walks into the boy's bathroom near the gym and finds Wakka and Riku staring down at their captor, who is being held against the floor with their feet, laughing.
Roxas just stares blandly up at them, eyes not hiding his disgust or his boredom.
Riku spits in his face, grinning; Wakka laughs, pressing into the boy's biceps with the toe of his shoe until he winces.
They finally look up and greet him jovially, eyes lively and dancing. That's when Axel realizes that this is just like a sport to them- the object is to humiliate the kid until he's dead, and they're giving one hundred percent.
"Hey, Axel." Riku says gruffly, grinning. Axel remembers he doesn't like this guy very much. "We were just gonna give the fairy a nice little welcoming present. Wanna help?"
That's when the red head notices Wakka with his hand on his zipper and he snorts, bewildered in his head. He didn't think these two would go so far as to rape a victim; they may be bullies but they're in a small town, and guy or not, it'd ruin their reputations and lives.
"Chyeh," He spits out finally, going over to the sink to wash his hands. For something to do. "I'm not a faggot."
He hears Wakka laugh, nervously, and Riku snort. "Fucking idiot," the silver haired boy hisses, glaring at him through the mirror. "Not that. You think we're sick or something? We were just gonna give him what he's always probably dreamed of all his life. We needed to go bathroom, anyway."
Axel looks at Riku through the mirror, and sees the teeth and the grin. He sees Roxas' foot in the mirror, twitching. He understands and he still snorts derisively. He shakes his hands in the water as not to show the other boys he's shaking.
"You go on ahead," he says finally, eyes never leaving Riku's; Wakka is staring down at the blond on the floor, mouth twitching. "Mr. Charlebrois is gonna kill me if I don't go clean up the damn clay wheel."
"Suit yourself." Wakka sings, and Axel walks out of the bathroom to the sound of laughter and a zipper being unzipped. He heads in the opposite direction of his class, to the outside world.
Once outside, he bites his palm until it bleeds and until he forgets the horror-stricken look in the blond's eyes.
Another month has passed. He finds himself attending school less and less, and instead finds himself wondering the streets of Hollow Bastion, always walking near his Uncle's apartment. He doesn't ever go near the park, though- every time he finds himself close he turns around and walks in the opposite direction, towards a mall or something more heterosexual.
He sees the kid on his second weekend there, at a coffee shop with another man. He's touching the guy's forearm, smiling slyly, poised coyly. He doesn't notice the tank top, short shorts, or the lip gloss. All he notices is the way the kid reaches up and brushes his lips against the older man's cheek and all he thinks is that it must take guts to do that in the middle of the street.
The older guy could pass as straight, he thinks, and he only gets to notice this because the man is walking towards him after saying a quick good bye to the kid. This guy is blond, too, and his hair is shiny and his face perfectly sculpted- fuck, Axel thinks. Fuck.
The man passes him with out so much as a glance, and Axel lets his face drop. He follows the man's previous foot steps until he's inside the little coffee shop, eyes scanning the screaming black walls. On them are white murals of people with their mouths wide open, bent, eyes closed. It dawns on him that these people, the ones on the walls, are supposed to look like they're having sex. All it makes Axel think off is spiders, long limbs twisting, with human faces constantly in pain.
A noise of recognition follows him in, and he turns around to see Roxas- that beautiful boy Roxas, he thinks, before he swipes a hand though his hair and looks down, ashamed.
"Hey." He says uneventfully, body turned one way and face turned the other. He doesn't know if he wants to talk to Roxas, but he does any way. All he knows is that the want is strumming in his heart strings, making him vibrate with hesitation and nervousness.
Roxas nods, working his mouth around words until he finally settles on two. "One second."
He disappears around the counter and, after a few minutes, motions him to come along. He ignores the sting of familiarity that comes after seeing the petite girl that takes the counter and he weaves through the kitchen, eyes never leaving the boy's heels. He's wearing orange sandals, Axel notices.
Once outside, they sit on milk crates and Roxas lights a cigar- the smell is rank, makes the alley feel like an alley and the place they're sitting like it's the worst in the world. He stands it though, and declines the cigar nudged towards him.
"You know," Roxas starts after a few minutes of silence, in which Axel freaks out and tries to calm his beating heart. "I didn't want to move to Twilight Town. Ever wonder why I came right in the middle of high school? During February break?"
"Not particularly." Axel says automatically, picking out stones with his eyes in the gravel. His smart mouth is what gets his father sighing in frustration sometimes, leaves the house silent for weeks on end until Axel does something that pleases him. He wonders of Vincent would like it if he pissed on a fag.
Roxas, unlike his other friends, doesn't jeer or get hurt or tease him- he just quietly 'hmms' around the filter of the thick cigar. "Mind if I tell you why?"
"Not particularly." Axel repeats.
And then Axel is sucked in more than he ever should be. He learns that the kid, which he was a year ago, really, had been prostituting himself for quick cash and a quick fuck. He had to move out of the state, or be sent to jail where'd he be fucked for free. He left his friends, his house, the acceptance of being gay to come to a pissant little town where even brothers don't kiss each other.
"The worst part," Roxas ends, flicking the ashes off of his nearly spent cigar. A small piece, Axel notes, lands on his toe- he makes no move to shake it off. "Is seeing how disappointed my mom was. That's the worst part."
Axel 'hmms' this time, unsure of what to say and sure of what he should do- walk out of there and maybe leave the kid alone forever. Never think of lip gloss and short shorts and blonds again. Instead, he opens his mouth. "I had a brother like you."
His voice is itchy in his throat- it feels like he smoked some bad hash, or maybe took some acid. Roxas just grins in the corner of his eye. "Like me?"
He refuses to elaborate, and Roxas is silent before he says something else. "Why haven't I ever met him?"
Why haven't I ever fucked him, is what Roxas really means, Axel knows. He grits his teeth against the knowledge. "My dad kicked him out when he was sixteen after catching him in bed with one of the gym teachers. In his bed."
Roxas makes a noise- one of awe or one of acknowledgement, he's not sure- and stands up, shifting his feet.
And then he smiles. Axel is still looking out of the corner of his eye.
"That's the way it always happens." He starts, flicking the filter out of his hand and onto the ground- it rolls in front of Axel. "And then you wind up dead."
He's left in the back alley, staring at the fading ember, and wondering if Reno is OK or not.
Roxas, as Axel has started referring to him in his head instead of that blond kid, hasn't been at school for three weeks.
Maybe it's just coincidence that Demyx notices on the same day as him, or maybe that's just how their minds work. Either way, at lunch, the dirty blond musician looks around the cafeteria, lips curling into a sneer. "No fag to make fun of today. Huh. No fun. And I'm pissed as it is."
Axel snorts, presses his palm flat against his thigh. He's refuses to bring it up to his lips this time around. "Can't always be around for your torturing pleasure. Christ, you sound like Larx."
Demyx laughs, and a hint of teeth is shown. His eyes are blue, too, Axel dully notes. And he has high cheek bones. And his lips are thin but full- Axel can imagine them around his d-
His fingers clench around his thigh, hard, and he is so glad Demyx turned away to greet the rest of their group as he did. The boy would have known what horror the redhead had just thought of if he had seen his eyes.
"Hey, Ax, you look sick. You doing ok there?" Luxord says, nonchalance dripping across his voice. Axel just shakes his head, shrugs. His nails are still embedded in his thigh.
"Maybe you should go see the nurse." Larxene adds, taking a closer look. He averts his eyes away, down to his feet. No one would have guessed but Larxene did take care of her own- the whole built in mother instinct thing- and if Demyx could see what he was thinking about it, Larxene could take a pencil and draw out all his sick little thoughts on the table.
He takes a second to study his shoes, deciding what to do. He just shrugs and finally looks up- lets a smile grace his lips. "Yeah. Maybe. I've been feeling kinda shitty since this morning. I'll go check it out."
"You better be better by the weekend." Marluxia says thoughtfully, flicking his pink hair over his shoulder. Fuck, he hates Marluxia so much- doesn't understand why they pick on Roxas for being a fairy when Marluxia acts so much more faggy than he ever could. "I'm having a party. And it's going to be good."
The reason Marluxia isn't picked on flashes across his face- a hidden feral, primal look that makes his eyes darker and his teeth sharper when he smiles. If Larxene is the one whose laughter he wouldn't wanna hear on a dark night, Marluxia is the person he'd hate to be alone in a forest with.
"Like I'd ever miss one of your parties, Marly." He purrs, then flips him the finger. Marluxia laughs and he gets up as if that's the cue to leave- and it kind of is, because everyone turns to Demyx when he starts talking about his next gig and this girl that's coming. He walks away, unaffected, because that's just how high school is.
He goes into the bathroom near the cafeteria and the first thing he sees is a flash of light blue eyes. He blinks, considers walking back out and going to another bathroom, but Roxas has seen him. He quietly closes the door and waits, because Roxas seems to be waiting for something too.
Roxas finally opens his mouth, darts his eyes down to the sink. Axel notices it's full of water that's steaming slightly. He sees Roxas' hands, which are turning red from the heat, resting in it- the water is being tinged pink.
"What do you want? Why don't you just go bathroom?"
Before he thinks about what he should say, it slips smoothly out of his mouth like smoke. "I wouldn't whip out my dick in front of a fag."
Roxas head jerks up and he looks surprised for a second, before his mouth moves up into a sly, blackmail-esque smirk and he shakes his head.
"Should you really say that? After all, you fu-"
"Shut up." Axel stiffens, looking away. He mumbles the next part. "It just... slipped. I know."
Roxas just laughs, mouth still quirked. He takes his hand out of the pool of pink liquid and turns around, walking towards him with small steps until they're close. A memory of a park skitters across his mind.
"So?" Roxas breathes, eyes staring into his fully. Axel tries not to look, but he does anyway- the whole wanting-what-he-shouldn't thing coming into play again. "What do you want?"
Axel stays silent, and he feels hands trailing up his hips, grabbing his zipper- his eyes dart to the stalls and Roxas has the audacity to giggle, a throaty chuckle that leaves his toes tingling.
"You think I'd do this if there was anyone there? I'm not stupid. I wouldn't want to ruin your... reputation." The last part said when his button is undone and Roxas reaches his wet hand into Axel's boxers, pulling out his cock which is already half-hard. He doesn't know if it's because of Demyx and his lips or Roxas and his eyes, but he has an inkling it's a little bit of both.
Roxas starts jerking him off in slow, steady swipes, thumb pressing into the slit where precum has already started leaking, until he's hard; he hangs his head and closes his eyes, mouth open and air escaping in short puffs; there is no rough friction, because Roxas grabbed him with wet hands. The blond's mouth is near his, greedily breathing in every hot breath of Axel's.
"I'm moving to a different school." Roxas says, and Axel lifts his head and presses it against the bathroom door. He doesn't open his eyes, and his hands stay at his sides, curled against the door. "I'm moving to Hollow Bastion. You probably won't see me again."
Axel grunts, tries to keep his hips from twitching- the kid's hands are fucking good, treating his dick like it's a precious piece of art.
"Do you care?" Roxas says, lips brushing against his jaw, tongue darting out to lick a line to his ear where he breathes heavily, probably faking the eroticism that hides in his voice.
Axel doesn't want to answer, so he doesn't- he jerks his hips and presses his head against the door. He's never been so afraid of a person before in his life.
Roxas just laughs again and he makes a choked noise in the back of his throat. The blond seems to get it and drops to his knees, mouth enclosing over his cock. The tight, wet heat finishes him off in a second and then he's coming with a jerk, a moan, and thrusting hips. The kid is good enough not to choke and swallows it all.
He stands up, licking his lips, and Axel finally opens his eyes. Roxas' face is a little flushed, but that's all that gives hint to the fact that he just gave a guy a hand job and a blow job in a school bathroom.
He looks at the mirror, at himself, and realizes he looks as if he just had a five hour fucking session- his hair is mussed, his eyes are glazed, and what's worse is that a line of gleaming saliva is on his jaw.
Axel looks at Roxas and scowls; the shorter boy seems to find this cute and laughs, putting his hand on the taller teen's shoulders and lapping at the spit until it's clean, if a little shiny.
The blond grins, then kisses his mouth- hard lips against hard lips.
He pulls away, leaving Axel stunned, and puts his hand on the door near his hand. He looks at him, giving the redhead a wink, and says "If you care, meet me at my house at five. If you don't, don't come. I don't give a shit."
Roxas' grin is almost malicious. "And clean yourself up. You look like a fag."
Axel is trekking through the woods and he doesn't know why. All he knows is he's heading towards Roxas' house, and he doesn't even know why he's doing that, either. He doesn't care if the little fairy moves away. He doesn't even know why he knows where his house is. He's really fucked-up on this one, he thinks.
He doesn't know why, but he keeps on walking anyway.
He had went to go visit Luxord, but his girlie was there so Axel was forced outside for an hour or so. Five minutes, he had snorted, tops, before heading towards the shed with the horses.
And he had ended up going past that. Past the fence that separated Luxord's family farm from the forest. Past the fields and into the trees. He had kept walking.
It was five minutes into his walk when he realized he was heading to the blond's house. He had kept on walking nonetheless- if he had been a lesser (or better) man, he would have said that something other than himself was compelling him to rip through the bushes and trudge through the leaves. He was himself, though, and he steadfastly ignored the feeling tugging at his heart.
By the time he got to Roxas', he thought, Good. It's six. He might not be here. Another part of him felt desperately lost. In the end, he just kept on walking until he got to the porch, and stood there awkwardly, deciding what to do in his head.
The problem was solved for him when the door opened and a very surprised boy stood in the door way. In his hand he held a a lighter, and a joint peeked out between his fingers.
Both of them quickly gained their composure- Roxas by wiping his face clean of surprise, Axel by snapping his eyes higher than near the shorter boy's crotch and meeting the baby blues half-way.
All the kid was wearing was an overlarge t-shirt with the word 'ZOMBIE!' in faded purple letters. It was so big that it fell off his shoulder, and that was when Axel realized how fucking small the kid really was. This kid that was two years younger than him. He looked like a fairy that stepped out of the movies, something that flew around in Peter Pan or Snow White or some damn fairytale. He was too small, delicate, and strong to be human.
Roxas stared at him, lips quirked, joint all but forgotten in his hand, hip cocked out, arms crossed. He didn't even try for formalities.
"You're an hour late for caring, aren't you?"
"I don't care." Axel replied. He wasn't sure if he was lying or not, or what he was saying 'I don't care' too, but he just ignored it all and shrugged, eyes trailing down before being jerked back up. Jesus, he wasn't even sure if the kid was wearing underwear under the shirt.
"Then why are you here?" Roxas replied. He makes that motion with his mouth- the one where he moves something from one side of his mouth to the other- and Axel feels the stirring. Oh, fuck, he thinks.
So he just shrugs, unable to speak. Roxas copies his movement and then turns away, trodding back into the house. He ends up following him, for lack of anything else to do, until he's lead to a living room- there, Roxas plops onto the couch, swings his leg onto the cushions, and picks up a pot with some food in it.
He starts eating from the pot, and Axel has no choice but to sit down- he looks around, but the only seat he sees is near Roxas' feet, so he sits down there.
Roxas stares at him, taking a fork and stabbing into the pot a few times. He brings up some noodles, creamy with sauce. He bites the fork, leaves some sauce on his lips; slowly licks it off. Axel has no clue why he's paying attention at all.
Roxas licks his lips again- probably just to tease him- and he toes Axel's leg while sliding up his other leg to bend at the knee. The stirring in between Axel's legs heats drastically, swirling, when he notices that what little skin he can see is bare underneath.
Roxas' lips quirk again when he notices Axel's indiscrete staring. "So, do you have sex a lot?"
With boys isn't said, for which Axel is glad because Roxas is the only boy he's ever fucked. He answers glibly, leaning his head back against the couch and rolling it towards Roxas so he's staring at the boy directly. "Yeah. Enough."
Roxas laughs, licking his lips again. There's not even sauce on them. "More than me, you think?"
Axel thinks about it- about fucking behind 7-eleven, taking it dry, I've done this before- and answers plainly. "No. I don't think so."
Roxas snorts, toes splaying. "You'd be right."
Axel just makes an affirmative noise, trying not to stare.
"Fucking, to me," Roxas starts, swirling his fork in his pot as if he's concocting a potion. A love potion, maybe. "Is the thing I'd like to do for the rest of my life. That's how I get around- to places, I mean."
Axel remembers an old geezer and a semi truck and nods, eyes straying to survey the living room. It's pretty empty, but that's not what he's here for.
"Fucking," Roxas starts again, after eating another bite. "Makes me feel wanted. I just have to lower my eyes and I have men slobbering at my feet, asking to lick my dick, to fuck me."
Axel makes a noise he's not sure is of indignation or fascination. Roxas continues either way. "When those men are fucking me, calling my name or a name I gave them, it's like... I'm wanted. It's hard to be wanted when you're a fag."
Roxas quirks a humorless smile. "For those few minutes, I'm wanted. I never approach a guy for sex, either- that's what they ask of me. Even when I want a ride into the city. I don't know if it's because I look like a kid or because I'm 'fucking gorgeous', but they all want to fuck me."
Roxas pauses, chews on his bottom lip for a second. Axel recognizes it as a nervous habit. "I've only approached a guy twice in my life for sex."
He doesn't say who but Axel doesn't ask if it was him- because, yes, Roxas had basically asked him if he had wanted to have sex those few weeks ago. He doesn't ask.
"My theory on love," He suddenly says, working his bottom lip. "Is that if you want to have sex with a person more than once, you like them. If it never gets boring, that's love. If it never gets boring and you don't get sick of the person, that's... That'd be wonderful." He finishes dully.
Then he gets a gleam in his eye; in his mind, he tries to place the look, but all he feels is the hot stirring starting a riot in his stomach, in his heart, in his brain.
"I want to have sex with you again." Roxas admits, taking a bite. There's sauce on his lips again. "And again. And again. I could probably never get sick of sex with you." He finishes dully, again.
Axel looks at him with a mixture of emotions- he isn't sure what they are, and he can't identify them at all. All he's focusing on is the sauce left on Roxas' lips.
A second of silence, and Axel looks into his eyes. "You have some sauce on your face."
"Oh?" Roxas says, sounding confused. He goes to wipe at his cheek. "Where?"
"You missed it." He brings his knees up to the couch, places his hands between Roxas' knee and the couch. Slow understanding dawns on the blond's face, and his smile curves into something delicious; ecstatic. Axel slowly crawls towards him, eyes on Roxas' lips.
When he gets close enough, enough to touch Roxas' lips with his own, he smirks- acts like he would if Roxas was a girl. "Right... Here."
He licks his lips, pulls back, and notices Roxas' eyes- fiery and dark, watching him. He licks his lips. "Mm."
Then he goes in for another kiss and Roxas meets him half way in what little distance there is- his heart is beating a staccato rhythm in his chest, perhaps quicker than it should be, which annoys him to some extent but he's not going to actually pay attention to it. Christ, he made a stupid decision, he's going to follow through with it.
He laps at Roxas' mouth, twines his tongue around Roxas', licks his teeth and explores the cavities with fervor- he's surprised at the aggressiveness the boy shows compared to a girl, pressing his hips to his, fingers carding through his hair, tongue lapping at him. Fuck, it's like sex already and they've only got to kissing. Axel could still run out and be none the wiser.
He runs his hands down the blond's sides, feels the difference of sharp angles instead of soft curves- presses his thumbs down hard, instead of feather light, and feels a noise of appreciation that's spent against his mouth, discarded along with his harsh breaths.
He goes to pet soft flesh between quivering thighs and instead finds hardness, twitching long legs that wrap around his knees. He could still escape; instead, he brings his hands back, to press against the soft thighs, and resolves not to go near that area lest he throws up.
Then Roxas thrusts up, rolls his hips in a completely erotic way that he's never seen a girl do. They rub cocks and Roxas lets out a strangled fuck, Axel against his lips and Axel grunts into his mouth.
They separate and Roxas takes off his shirt and his chest flexes; Axel doesn't stare because it's flat, wonderfully smooth, and even his nipples look different from that of a girl's. The redhead bends his head and nips at the pink flesh and Roxas hisses.
Two seconds later and Axel raises up to undo his belt buckle, eyes greedily devouring the soft line of hair leading down to pubic hair, left above a hard cock. He almost falters but, instead of thinking about it, undoes his pants and takes out his dick, leaning down for another kiss.
They fuck with their tongues for awhile, Roxas' hands clutching his hair and Axel's hands trailing down sharp sides. Roxas' muttered "Wait, wait", pressing his hands against Axel's chest, doesn't deter him from his goal of pleasure. He gasps into his mouth when the red head accidentally presses his pelvis against his cock.
"What?" He answered gruffly, mouth following the other boy's retreat- his back is against the couch already, and he continues kissing and biting as the other boy squirms under him.
He hears an uttered "Fuck it" in his ear and then the boy pulls him up for another mind-blowing kiss, teeth nipping at his lip. Axel hardly notices the hand that snakes in between them until Roxas sucks in a breath, breaking the kiss, and he pulls back to see what's hurting him.
Axel's mouth goes dry when he sees the blond fucking himself, eyes straining to stay open as he pushes himself onto the two fingers embedded up to the knuckle. He sees the muscles in his arm working, and tries to remember if he's ever been so turned on by a girl doing that in front of him. Tries to remember if a girl ever fucked herself on her fingers in front of him.
His memory comes up blank as Roxas moans, a short gasp that makes a warm pool of saliva collect under his tongue- he spits in his hand and bats the blond's hand away so his fingers take place, fucking him slowly.
By the time he spits and slicks the saliva on his cock, Roxas is panting and gasping and acting like he wants this- "Oh, fuck, please Axel, fuck, you're so fucking hot, please!"
He enters the boy roughly, tries to remember anything he had learned on the subject of anal besides using lube- his mind is still coming up blank on everything so he focuses on the task at hand, and rocks his hips into Roxas' ass.
He doesn't set a rhythm- instead, fucks him fast until he's begging him to go harder then goes so impossibly slow the blond is left panting, a quivering mess in his arms as he moans and sobs. All in all, he fucks the kid for something like half an hour. Roxas is the first one to come, after another switch from sweet and slow to fast and hard, and he comes with the most erotic look on his face- eyes half-lidded, sweat shining on his face, lips parted, panting, pleading for Axel, Axel, Axel.
He gives a few more jerks of his hips and he comes- he swears he blacks out for a second- and finds purchase in burying his face in Roxas' collar bone, breath ghosting across the sweat and fanning over his chest as Roxas makes slow, lazy circles on his neck.
And then he feels horrible- vile, disgusting- and it rises up in him like a wave of destruction. He ridiculously wonders if this was how Noah felt when he saw the world enveloped by water before he grabs the pot Roxas set down and vomits into it.
Luckily, it's a big pot- Roxas lets go of him and runs up the stairs, probably to go get a towel or something to clean up what splashed over the side of the steel container.
By the time he comes downstairs, Axel is gone, leaving an overturned pot of vomit and a memory.
It's been six months since he last saw the kid, and a lot has happened- he had a girlfriend, broke up with her after finding her cheating on him with an emo named Zexion, kicked the shit out of him until Demyx jumped in and they started wailing each other, and once that blew over he got another girlfriend and almost got expelled because they were found fucking in the bathroom.
All in all, it's been a pretty fucking good six months.
He doesn't think any 'gay thoughts'- or at least, whenever he catches his mind straying to the topic, or whenever he sees a head of short blond hair, he jerks his mind forcibly away and makes himself think of 'straight things'. When he jerks off, he carefully makes sure he thinks of nothing.
Graduation is pretty much short of dead- fifty people graduate, most of his friends by the skin of their tails. He makes it with a 82 average, which surprises every one, but it doesn't matter- the extra two percent gets him into the university of Hollow Bastion.
The very words burn in his brain like wild fire- hot and vivid, swallowing him whole. It doesn't take much for the two words to come up, either. All everyone is talking about is University, except his closer friends.
Demyx is hitting the streets to try and live off his music; Larxene has a job as an electrician in town; Luxord is being a dealer at the casino; and Marluxia is going to a smaller college, further away, to be a Herbalist. He doesn't give a shit about anyone else.
In the end, it doesn't really matter. The only people he'll ever see will be Demyx and Luxord, anyway.
So, two days before graduation, he breaks up with his girlfriend, makes sure he can live at his Uncle's place, finds a job in Bastion and gets a hefty check from his father and mother to 'start him off'; they're even paying for his tuition the first four years.
Down the aisle during Grand March, he walks alone- not because he couldn't find anyone, but because he wanted to walk solo. It caused a small uproar once it got around but it was quickly hushed by a roll of eyes from himself and a quick-witted "Why the fuck should I go with some bimbo?"
And then he is in Hollow Bastion, standing in his Uncle's half empty apartment and contemplating his new life.
For a second, he thinks about blond hair, blue eyes, short shorts and a wife beater; and then he grabs his keys and walks out the door, set on blowing his mind out the window.
He's dancing with a slutty ninja girl- black hair, black eyes, black clothes, and oh, she's hyper- he doesn't really like her, but she's hot, so he'll fuck her. It'll be good.
The lights are moving and shaking and dancing harder than any of the bodies they play over, and the colors got him seeing some trippy things- green aliens with blond hair, alligators with blue eyes, short snakes who rear up and lick their lips, blinking like a human does. Oh, damn, he thinks, someone slipped something in my drunk! Drink! Drunk, I'm God, he says out loud, giggling like a faggot.
He whispers into the dark of the club, into the shadows, I fucked a boy once and I honestly think I'm a faggot for him. A real faggot.
And there is a blond hair blue eyed with stares and glares shooting from his eyes, and Axel grins, saying Hello I love you.
The first thing he notices in the morning is the blinding, splitting pain that wakes him up- it throbs through his skull like Mars' war drums, loud and angry and agonizingly slow.
He doesn't open his eyes for what seems like hours- someone even comes into the room once and sets down a glass of Advil and he doesn't look. If it's Demyx, good, at least his buddy will take care of him. If it's a girl he's slept with, it's only kinda good because he'll have to explain he doesn't want a relationship at the moment. If he's at some chicks house, even worse- he doesn't remember how he got there.
He tries to remember last night, and it comes to him fragmented, like ripped out pages in a child's book- dancing, alligators, ninjas, a song he hardly remembers, and a blow job he'd hate himself for forgetting.
In the back of his mind, there is a vision of a petite blond, but he blocks that out because, lately, every time he sees a blond he wants to have sex. Probably because of his last girlfriend, he tells himself.
When he does open his eyes and manages to glare and decipher the red numbers on the digital clock that are louder than any bell, he reads 12: 03. Which is a good thing, he supposes; it isn't too late or early.
He closes his eyes again and, just as he's about to gather the will and swing his legs over the bed, the mattress dips and a cloth is put over his eyes. He freaks out internally for a second while the inner pervert in him crows about a kinky girl, and shoots out his hand to grab the hand that had blinded him.
It stops and they stay like that for a moment- the red head admiring the thin, pale wrist he's caught by feel and the other girl tensing and untensing. He's about to take off the cloth, just to see the girl, but just as he has his hands on the corner he hears a small "Ah!"
His hand freezes and so does his whole body- he's not acutely aware of the fact that he has no clothes on and the blanket is just below his belly button. He remembers- blond hair rising up from his lap and he sees blue eyes, and another memory from last night comes roaring up at him- "Oh, fuck, Roxy, yes, I love you, fuck..."
The silence is suffocating him more than the heat, and he swallows it back like a shot- a shot too many, apparently, because, fuck. Fuck.
"I didn't want you to see me." Roxas says from above him, wrist still loosely clasped in his tight fist. "If you didn't wake up before I left for work in an hour, I was just going to pretend I was a girl and write you a girly note that had a fake number on it."
The blond sounds panicked, and probably is. Axel just tries not to bolt. To distract himself, he shrugs and simply asks why.
"Because you don't want to see me." He said, nervousness still apparent in his voice- the redhead can imagine him biting his bottom lip, chewing off lip gloss. In his hand, the wrist has totally went limp. He resists the urge to make a comment.
Another second of silence rolls by and he loosens his grip. "We really have to stop meeting like this."
And, with out further ado, he rolls over into a sleep so deep he doesn't even remember the short teen leaving.
When he wakes up it's late- eight o' clock. His stomach growls evil things at him, and he shrugs before getting up and trying to find food.
He paced the small- and by small he meant tiny. It probably took up the space of his kitchen and living room in his place- apartment in search of food, ending up in the kitchen where most sources of nourishment lay. On the table a note was posted:
"Hey just letting you know I had to go step out! Give me a call 943-9210 -Megan"
Axel laughed after reading it, knowing the blond had put it there just in case he had forgotten the previous events eight hours before. Fat chance in hell, he thinks, before slipping the note with girly scrawls and hearts all over it into his pocket. A truly feminine touch, and if he didn't remember he would have probably been convinced it was a girl's lips around his dick last night. There's not even any pictures on the walls.
Minutes later and he's outside, and he shields his eyes against the sunset. In his head, a voice whispers:
Good morning, beautiful- its going to be another wonderful day.
He waves, two fingers saluted, when he sees the blond at the little cafe where the shadows make grotesque faces while having sex. The blond smiles back, hands already cupped around a steaming mug of chai tea. Across from the boy sits an untouched mug off cafe latte, the whipped cream a perfect swirl on top.
He grins his grin- the one which has girls melting left and right in his university classes- and sits down across from him gracefully, taking a bill out of his pocket and nudging it towards the blond. "I told you not to pay for me."
The other teen shrugs- in his flimsy shirt Axel can see every one of the tendons snap and growl in that simple movement. "You paid last time. And the time before that. I feel like a cheap skate."
Axel just laughs, leaving the bill unattended on the table. He leans back and sips his mug, licking his lips after. "Yeah, but I actually have money."
Roxas just shrugs, eyes still stuck on his mouth where his tongue is dipping between the seam of his lips to get the rest of the sweetness off his mouth.
This isn't anything new, the watching- Axel is still a little uncomfortable with it, even after four weeks of being in the other boy's acquaintance. Because, despite all odds, they have formed an easy, trustful relationship where awkward topics and words slip between the cracks unnoticed. But still. The blond doesn't bother hiding the way his eyes follow every movement of his tongue, or how they burn into his collarbone when he wears an open shirt.
It unnerves him, tries to push up memories of intimacy like the dead- yet, like all good men, he ignores it, sipping his cafe latte and licking his teeth.
Roxas just snorts after another second, eyes finally dragging up to his green ones. Neither bothers trying to hide Roxas' attraction. "Still. I have some money."
"Mommy's boy." He smirks, tonguing his canine- Roxas watches with acute fascination.
"Daddy's bitch." He says distractedly.
If that had come from every other guy, he would have snorted and continued the'family+derogatory name' insult game. So he does, easily, but knows he noticed the slightly homosexual insinuation. For the record, of course, his father would have killed the pope before sleeping with his own son, and that's saying something for a highly religious man.
"Whatever, dumb ass." He says; he moves onto the other canine. Roxas still watches like it's his favorite movie. "Whatchu doing tonight?"
Roxas shrugs, and finally takes a sip of his tea- such a fucking gay drink, the redhead thinks blandly. "It's one of those nights where you have to relax, you know? Just sit back and watch whatever's on TV."
Axel hmm's, because he knows exactly the feeling. Of course, that hasn't ever stopped him from going out and getting wasted, but he knows the feeling. "Hm. Yeah. I got some movies tonight that I'm gonna sit back and watch."
Roxas' eyes look up into his and the boy smiles, sipping his tea placidly. So fucking gay, he still thinks. From the way he smiles to the way he dresses to even the fucking way he holds his cup. "Cool. Which movies?"
"Scary movie 4, 300, and I Know What You Did Last Summer. All comedy." He grins, done with licking his teeth- he takes another sip and starts again. "Luxord just wanted to get rid of them so he passed them off to me."
Roxas hmm's again, setting his drink down. "Luxord sounds like a cool guy from what you're always saying about him."
Another loop hole in their relationship- even though Roxas knows who the other man is from an intimate encounter with his foot and the floor, he acts as if he hasn't ever heard the name or if it's some guy Axel always talks about. A boyfriend, perhaps.
Expertly, he plays along, because he's always been good at lying. "A swell chap, that's what 'e is." Axel imitates in a shitty British accent. Roxas snorts. "e'd luv you to deth, luv."
Roxas just snorts again. "Excuse me while my ear drums bleed, because what you did there was a beautiful butchering of the British accent."
"Aw, c'mon, it wasn't that bad." Axel laughs, sipping his caffeine. His eyes dart to the boy's neck when he closes his eyes, sipping on his tea. "I thought I was a good actor."
"Someone's been telling you some twisted things."
"You break my heart, you really do, Rox." He smirks- his eyes rise just in time to see the lazy revealing of blue irises. "If I had a heart to give I couldn't give it any more, as smashed as it is."
"Drama queen." Roxas pins. His fingers play with the sugar on the table and Axel's eyes are drawn to the skinny digits.
"Emo whore." He says simply.
They sit silently, comfortable with the din around them until Roxas speaks again, amused. "You know, I've never seen 'I Know What You Did Last Summer'."
And this time Axel does gasp, dreadfully exaggerated- his eyes go wide. "Are you being absolutely serious? This isn't a shitting matter Roxas- it's one of utmost importance."
Roxas giggles- Axel eyes his mouth, the pink lips surrounding it. "I'm serious as the dead, Axel. I just never got around to it."
"That's a blasphemy against the world, Rox. You're defying the very order of the earth, of right and wrong and good and evil."
"I'm a dreadful person. Maybe you can bring me the movie later and I'll go watch it next weekend."
And then he takes another sip, lowering his eyes to stare into the dredges of the tea. Axel takes in the long eyelashes, the pale skin, the windswept hair and the small wrists.
"No way," he says, taking a sip of his coffee again, eyes open and staring at the blond. "This is a movie you cannot enjoy alone- it is not a movie which can be shared with a box of popcorn and some cola."
"Oh?" Roxas says, amused- his eyes look up and Axel can see the gears turning and working in that brain of his, perhaps thinking up times when his other friend's can come over and watch it with him.
"There has to be at least one awesome person with you there." He states, taking another drink. "Thankfully, I'm a pretty awesome person. So it's been decided."
"What has?" Roxas says, lowering his tea and looking at him in question. Axel just grins, setting down the cup. He licks his teeth again, watching the blond's baby blues dart to it.
"You're coming over to my house tonight. And you're going to enjoy the movie so damn much you'll moan at so much the thought of moving a muscle to get up and go to the bathroom."
The movie is almost finished- about the time of the boat and the last killing scene- and both Roxas and Axel are on edge. Roxas because, even for a nineties horror film, it's pretty traumatizing. Axel because, half way through the movie, he realized he had invited a gay nymphomaniac with the hots for him in his home.
Of course he doesn't show it- he is a good actor, after all- but when Roxas' nails dig into his arm the fifth time he just ruffles the other boy's head and excuses himself to the bathroom. Roxas goes to whine but is drawn back into the movie, intent on seeing the killer bought to justice.
He does his thing and then just stares into the mirror- green eyes drill back into his own and he clenches his fist. The person in the mirror does the same and in his eyes Axel sees a longing for something he's afraid to say.
He stays in there, quietly arguing with himself, before going back into the living room just as the ending credits march across the screen. Roxas is sitting, dazed, his hand in the bowl of half-eaten popcorn.
Axel goes and crosses his arms over the top of the couch, looking at the credits roll- he sees 'Ronnie' and 'Alex', but no Roxas or Axel.
"Good movie? He says, eyes staying stubbornly on the screen- over the black another Alex appears.
"I can see why it's a classic." Roxas turns around, hair brushing his fore arm. "Totally unpredictable-"
And he doesn't even turn his face fully before Axel is attacking his mouth, teeth probably bruising the pink flesh of his lips. Roxas makes a noise but makes no move to resist, as if he's been expecting it all night.
They kiss like that for only a minute- Axel leaning into Roxas and Roxas leaning into him- before the blond starts unfolding, trying to bring himself closer to the red head. He lightly presses his lips against Axel's to urge him to move back. They don't separate mouths so, in the end, Roxas is leaning up into Axel's lips, hands on top of his, as they kiss over the divider.
He barely breaks away when he utters "Bedroom", and Roxas makes a noise of agreement- their lips still don't seperate, Axel moving around the couch and never leaving the blonds lips unattended, even for a second.
They stumble down the hall, Roxas hands roaming the taller man's back as Axel's grips his waist, guiding him. When they finally get to the bed Roxas shirt is mostly off and his hands are working at the buttons to his pants.
Roxas arches against him, gasping, when Axel attacks his neck and his hands attack the blond's pants, tugging them off harshly enough that they rip silently in the air- it goes unnoticed as Axel breathes into Roxas' shoulder, thrusting dryly into the pale boy.
Roxas writhes on the bed, loudly panting and trying to keep his voice down. It only rises with each second though so, by the time he finally pushes into the blond with nothing but spit he's practically screaming himself hoarse.
They start a rhythm which is almost like their first time, behind a seven-eleven in a town of homophobics- rough and hard, fast, as if they were animals. Roxas is begging his name again, using it like a prayer, until Axel hooks a leg over his shoulder and thrusts deeper. His voice is mostly gibberish, now, and one hand clenches the sheets while the other grips his bicep in phenomenal strength.
It only takes five minutes of fucking to get them both off- Roxas first and Axel second- and they lie panting in the after glow.
Then Axel tumbles off the bed and barely makes it into the bathroom- he finds himself throwing up into the sink, feeling so horribly wretched he just wants to die.
Roxas comes into the bathroom and touches his arm softly, where he's sure there are fingernail marks now. He flinches away and retches again, eyes closed tightly.
He doesn't hear Roxas leave the room, or hear the door slamming on the way out. All he hears, after he's done, is the sound of something breaking horribly inside his chest.
Roxas is haunting him- in his dreams, nightmares, and thoughts, lingering in the shadows of his room like a wraith and screaming in his bathroom mirror. When the TV is off and the apartment is silent he sees a blurry image of blond-white and feels nails digging into his arm.
It drives him insane for all of two days before he gives into himself and drinks until he doesn't remember what day it is.
During one of his more lucid moments in the following weeks, he is walking to the cafe he and Roxas used to go too, the one he works at- screaming black orgasms and all that. Instead of passing before the window, he takes a sharp turn down an alley way and goes to the back, intent on walking to twenty third and a hundred and twelve.
He turns the corner, doesn't look up when he hears a clatter. It is only when a muttered 'shit' is said that he looks up.
He moves before he thinks about it and catches the shorter teen's arm, who was half way through the back door of the coffee shop when he grabbed him.
Roxas grunts as he's slammed against the wall and his means of escape are closed harshly, the sound resonating throughout the alley. They stay at that stand still, green eyes drilling into blue, until Roxas looks away.
"Leave me alone." He says, eyes still downcast. His arms are tense and his whole body is rigid. All he can think about is Roxas, grip lax in his, baby blues looking into his. It's a million times better than this, because he knows that, right now, the blond would rather be anywhere else in the world.
Out of his mouth comes a simpler word than he's used to, but it speaks volumes more than what he usually says. "No."
The blond just sneers, still not looking at him directly. Axel can smell the coffee on him, reaching for his soul and his small, tortured stomach. Somewhere in his body, something tugs sweetly. He refuses to acknowledge it, but it burns to do so.
"I'm not leaving you alone." He clarifies, as if a simple 'no' wouldn't get his meaning across. "I want to talk to you."
"There's nothing to talk about." The smaller boy says, eyes coming up to stare at somewhere around his cheekbone. The blue glints heavily in the dark off the alley, and the burn worsens terribly.
"I think there are some things worth talking about." Axel states, refusing to give in to the demands of the other boy. His father had always called him stubborn and pig headed, with a sneer on her lips all the while.
And, finally, the boy looks him straight in the eye- the pulling becomes stronger, the burning almost tiring him. "Let me rephrase that." He says coolly. "There's nothing worth talking about."
Even at this, the burning does not subside.
"It's worth it if I want to talk about it." Axel snarls, fists tightening and untightening and tightening again; it's a vicious cycle that's been following him like a shadow for weeks. To tell you the truth, he isn't sure what the shadow is, but that's something for another time.
"It's always about you, right?" Roxas sneers, eyes still heavy. He swears the kid is consuming him. "Sex whenever you want, get to see me whenever you want, we always do whatever you want. You're a shitty boyfriend."
Roxas laughs mercilessly and Axel tries not to freeze at the term. Roxas notices, and in this moment he is able to pull his arm away, grab the door handle. Axel pulls back a little, unsure of what to do in front of such a word, and stares at Roxas with an indistinguishable expression on his face.
"What?" Roxas says, sneering. "You didn't think because we fucked, hung out, and basically did 'boyfriendy' things, we weren't boyfriends?"
Axel is unable to speak, and his hands move in multiple aborted gestures- towards Roxas, towards himself, the sky, anywhere, but never a solid movement.
Roxas just chuckles mirthlessly, and a hand comes up to cover his face, to drag down it as if to wipe off something he doesn't want Axel to see. The gesture takes all of five seconds before he looks up again, eyes drilling into Axel's.
"I think we should break up." His voice sounds so practiced, and Axel stares at him because Roxas looks so bored.
After a minute though, he laughs again, and says. "Nevermind what I just said. No one will miss me. There wasn't anyone with me in the first place."
And then Roxas opens the door and goes inside, leaving Axel leaning against air and confusion, wondering why he feels so empty inside.
The next few hours are spent in a daze of half-crazed thoughts, substandard schemes, and a longing that burns from the inside out.
And it hurts more than it should, really- the burning, the schemes, and thoughts. Half of them involve Roxas, the other half are because of Roxas. In the end, he settles on the easiest and ends up heading out for a walk, hoping the smoggy air will clear his thoughts.
And he ends up at the park, of course. He knew he would, because before the smog, the walk, the clearing, his thoughts were of Roxas, Roxas, Roxas.
He walks through the park, fends off stares and lude cat callings, in search of blond, blue, and white. He doesn't think about how he knows Roxas will be there, how he'll be looking for a quick fuck behind the shed, where he can forget- instead, his eyes are open, wide, against the dark, bright enough to glint.
And, there- he sees blond, blue, white, and some other colors he's not to fond of; silver, purple, off-white, standing next to Roxas. Roxas, whose mouth is moving a mile a minute; Roxas, whose barely covered by shorts and a vest; Roxas, whose body is turned towards the other man's, eyes glinting, lips shining.
Roxas, who he realizes he is really worried about, because he's been out of Axel's sight for way too long and hurting, probably just as much as he is.
With this realization, he struts over there, and the other man- the one hitting on Roxas- must think he's just walking right on past, and probably continues to think that until about the time Axel winds up and punches him square in the jaw.
He kicks the man while he's down- he's never been a clean fighter- and when he looks up, Roxas is there, looking at him, eyes wide, jaw working, standing like a lamb. Axel isn't sure what to do, because the boy seems so blank. He considers apologizing for all of two seconds before the blond is suddenly at his arm, gasping for air through his words, pupils dilated. This is when he realizes that Roxas is higher than any fucking kite he's ever flown, probably drunk, too, and he wants to punch him.
"'M sorry, s-sorry! You left and I sad, I'm walking, and then there was you- you- I'm s-s-sorry!" Roxas sobs, fingernails digging into his bicep. Axel goes and wraps a hand around the boy's shoulder, and at the subtle touch Roxas practically collapses into him, babbling away like a speed train.
"And, and, after I said 'break up', got off work and came here and drugs! And there was some alcohol. There was too much, and the man said 'lets have sex', so I did- and it was your face, and I said your name a lot, Axel, Axel, Axel because I want it be you, you, Axel! Because sex is good, and I think I must love you, I swear on my grandmama's grave, I swear, I love you and hurts."
Axel wraps his arms around the blond as he continued to babble, and he shushes him, says soothing things; half remembers words and songs his mother used to sing to him.
He doesn't know how long he stands there, holding the blond and his confessions of love, but when the sun peeks over the horizon Roxas peters out and he carries him home, worry in his heart and a smile on his face.
Roxas wakes up when he's flipping over the french toast he has going on the stove, and he's almost not aware of the teen until his bare feet hit the kitchen tile and he turns around to a sheepish looking boy, eyes down and hands behind his back.
"Hey, breakfast is almost ready." He says, and turns around quickly so Roxas doesn't see his eyes- red, from staying up all night and smoking a whole pack of cigarettes in four hours.
Roxas doesn't say anything until he turns around again, and he's still standing at the door- the lamb look about him, again, though he seems a little more ashamed and abashed than a new born animal would. "I'm sorry."
Axel hums and flips the toast again, intent on getting it perfect. "For what?"
He can almost feel the glare at the back of his head and he grins, intent on torturing the blond a little. Even if it feels a little too much like home.
"For assassinating your mother. What do you think?"
Axel laughs at that, turning around and upturning the toast onto the plate nearest to Roxas; he goes back to the stove and starts another one, only looking back after it's in the pan and frying slowly. "I don't care."
Roxas makes a noise of surprise, and he turns around again, catching his eyes. "Oh, I mean I don't care about the taking care of your sorry ass part- the one where you went out and fucked around with some shit that you probably shouldn't have pisses me off. The taking care part, whatever- I've done it before."
When he turns around again, second french toast done, he comes face to face with a scowling Roxas- beautiful in all his rage, Axel thinks, before the blond bites into him. "Like you ever cared before."
He hums again, unbothered- he's set on being calm in this conversation because he's pretty sure how it'll turn out. Then again, Roxas is a guy, which started this whole mess, so it's a bit messy. "That's when I didn't give a shit. Now I do. See the difference?"
Roxas just scowls harder, crosses his arms and cocks his hip out; he's still standing at the door and Axel stands with him, leaning against the wall. "Why the fuck do you care now? Things suddenly changed once you saw other people actually wanted me? Fuck you."
Axel looks up from where he had been examining his nails, girlish and fucking gay as it looked, and cocks an eyebrow; gets up from his position. "Nothing really changed." He confesses, looking straight at Roxas. "I'm just not afraid to admit that I actually have a boyfriend now."
This stops Roxas in his tracks like it had him a few weeks ago, in an alley- the word 'boyfriend' like it's a bomb, a deadly poison, maybe. His blue eyes zero in on his face, intent on searching out anything that might betray him- but Axel is serious, eyes set.
It takes Roxas another second before he scowls, unsure of himself in that action; his body is giving mixed messages, hands dropping, relaxing, even as he looks like he's about to kill someone. "I'm your fucking boyfriend now? You actually expect me to drop all the drama and the fucking bull shit you've put me through the last few months, just because you finally find out you're a fag?"
Axel stiffens at that- the word fag is the bomb here, the real threat- and he wills himself to relax, because Roxas is angry and he's just throwing random shit to piss him off, too. He takes token in the fact that he can see what Roxas is doing, and calms himself down enough to talk.
"I'm not a fag." He says, and his next words are thoughtful. "I tried thinking of fucking a few guys I know, right, but it just didn't work for me, yanno? Only when I thought of you."
Here, he meets Roxas' eyes which are wide and wary; he smiles before speaking again. "When I imagined sex with you, I didn't get sick of it- I could do it again, and again, and again with you. Probably. Which I think might mean I won't get sick of you, either, because to love someone you can't be sick of them even when the sex if good. Don't you think?"
The question is added on as a last resort, maybe to twist his words about a bit so if Roxas says no and tries to stomp off, he could improvise- maybe add that that wasn't his theory, whatever, maybe if Roxas would give him a lot more time to think it'd be better-
When he focuses again, all of a second or so later, Roxas' head is down and his eyes are closed- he brings up his hands to cover his face from the world, and his body breaks down into a stance that screams defeat.
"You fucking asshole." He says, and that's all the permission Axel needs to walk over to him and wrap his arms around the small frame. He settles his chin on top of the blond hair, ready to listen to whatever Roxas has to say.
It takes a moment before the teen can speak again, and his words are muffled in his hands; Axel is just happy he's letting him hug him. "You're an asshole. And you don't stop popping up. And I'd say it was destiny or some stupid shit like that if I wanted to sound like a retard. Or, I don't know, maybe we were together in another life and it ended tragically. Or something. But it's so stupid since you won't fucking stop bothering me, even when you're not there."
Silence and the red head rubs soothing circles in the others back; he wonders what Roxas' reaction must have been when he woke up in one of Axel's old t-shirts.
"If you're fucking joking about this, if this is some big elaborate play that's going to end up with me bleeding in the gutters, I will kill you. Because I'm sick of this, and I don't know why I can't stop saying 'ok' when you do this shit to me."
Roxas finally drops his hands and clasp loosely at the ends of his shirt- a good sign, Axel thinks, but he doesn't want to hope too much yet. "...You better not be doing this for shits and giggles."
And Axel- whose probably letting his hope soar too high too soon- smiles, and feels lighter than he has in weeks with a little blond in his arms and the acceptance of his own heart. "Nah. I wouldn't do that to someone I love."
It's been three days since the last fight they had- the big finale to what Axel was hoping would end the whole drama between them- and Roxas has come over to watch movies, hang out, and do usually boyfriend-y things (or what Axel believes boyfriend-y things are).
Everything except sex, which Axel has tactfully avoided because he knows that, even if his mind and heart are ready to accept Roxas his body might not be. He doesn't want to test himself so soon after Roxas has 'accepted him' back, afraid that it might be testing the ice before spring is even close.
It all comes to a stand still when, after watching a Simpsons' marathon for four hours, Roxas leans up and kisses him full on the mouth; even if he's been avoiding it, he kisses back, and what he hopes won't be a disaster starts in slow, tilting motion.
They tumble to the bedroom, kissing slowly, hands calmly removing clothing, all until they hit the mattress and Roxas moans into his mouth.
Axel breaks the kiss, unbuckles his belt and pulls down his pants, and he realizes this is the first time he'll be fully naked in front of Roxas. He ignores the tug in his stomach before kicking them off and flipping them over so Roxas is beneath him and needy, panting, asking for him.
They kiss again and Axel reaches for the lotion, putting a dollop on his hand and he starts stretching Roxas, because this is what the blond had told him to do before, in a conversation on how to have sex with another man properly- he waits until the blond's thighs are quivering, hips arching up, gasping out his name before he coats his own cock and pushes in.
The gratification is almost instant- he groans at the heat, at the thick envelopment of desire that wraps around him and he pulls out and pushes back in fast, the moan the other boy makes shooting straight down to his cock.
The pace is fast and hard, so much that Axel can hardly get enough of the other boy. And Roxas is just as bad for wanting him- he can hardly move because Roxas is clinging to him, loving him in entirety.
When Roxas whispers "Fuck, Axel, you're so hot." into his ear when he thrusts down, hard, in a different angle, Axel decides sex is sex and sex is Roxas and- fuck. Fuck, he might have it bad, he thinks. And this is the thought that makes him come because he knows if it's true the blond would only love him more.
As soon as Axel comes, the test is here, all too soon- the sickness pulls at his stomach and before he can stop himself he's rising up, covering his mouth, moving off of Roxas who is still hard.
When the other boy realizes this his hands shoot up lightning quick and wrap around Axel's neck, pulls him down so the red head's nose is buried in his neck, gasping for air.
"Don't you dare." Roxas breathes, still hard against his stomach. His hands are tightly wound in Axel's hair. "If you do... I don't care, I don't care how much I... I don't care. I'll leave you, I swear."
And this is the test he's been waiting for- the very thing that Axel feels like he can't do. He feels the sickness that is consuming him from the inside out, the bad burning that hurts in a bad way.
But here is Roxas, naked against him, willing to hold him as he rides the wave of nausea. And this is his boy, he thinks. His boyfriend, with whom he loves with his little heart.
With this in mind his hand reaches between them and wraps around Roxas' cock- his blond boy gasps in, not expecting that, of Axel's hand around his cock.
Slowly, Axel jerks him off, desperate in his attempt to stop the nausea and show Roxas he cares.
When Roxas comes an embarrasing forty five seconds later, Axel stills, breathing heavy, clinging to the boy as he gasps for air that isn't coming as quick as it should. All is quiet, except for their desperate attempts for breath.
"Fuck." Axel gurgles, taking a big gulp of air as a wave of nausea hits him again- hopefully, it is his last, he thinks, before a smaller one that moves the fluids in his stomach forward makes him tense.
"Axel, oh." Roxas replies back, arms tight around his neck in an embrace. Axel heaves a bit as a big wave almost makes him vomit. "Thank you. Oh, fuck, thank you."
And that is all it takes- suddenly, the storm has passed and he is left, sweaty, against the blond, who clings to him tightly.
When he looks up, it is with a shaky grin and a perfect breath. "I think." he says, laughing through his nose. "You're beautiful."
Axel is glad he lives in a place where Christmas is a hot affair, sun beating down on them all- the pavement burns under his feet, which are only covered by thin sandals, and he wonders if he should get shoes. Roxas needs clothes too.
He makes a note to bring this up to the blond- maybe they could do their Christmas shopping while they were at it- as he waves at the very person who he had been thinking about.
He kisses the blond quickly, on the cheek, who accepts it almost a little too enthusiastically, and they sit down for their weekly coffee ritual. They chat about random things, Axel bringing up shopping for Christmas and Roxas bringing up that his friend is turning eighteen this weekend, so he can't come over to Axel's.
It's an easy sort of relationship- Axel is still getting used to the whole dating-a-guy thing, which isn't so different from dating a girl. There's less drama, less 'where were you last night's, and Roxas isn't the type of fag that worries overly much about his clothes. They have their separate lives and they see each other enough to make it work. Usually, weekends are their time, but Axel isn't heartbroken about the party- whatever. Roxas has his own life that he wouldn't want to be a part of, anyway.
Axel is almost lulled by the easiness of it all, and is almost fooled into thinking that there will be no trouble in the near future- oh, he is wrong, because when him and Roxas are parting ways the blond kisses him on the lips and he looks up just in time to see Demyx, mid-wave, staring at him, mouth hanging open.
He shoots up, mouth working, as he stares at his friend- who has gotten tanner, dirtier-looking, street life working on his youthful face until it's a little wiser. None-the-worse for wear, Axel thinks, until he sees disgust and hurt build on his friend's face.
"Fucking gross." Demyx just says, then turns and starts walking away briskly, sitar thumping on his back, shoulders squared.
Axel's mouth just hangs open, hand poised in an aborted gesture of friendliness, and he doesn't even notice Roxas until the blond puts a hand on his shoulder.
"Axel?" He says, worriedly, and he turns, eyes blazing.
"Why'd you have to do that?" He hisses, hand waving in the general direction of where Demyx walked off too. "Now Demyx fucking knows!"
In his mind, he pauses, realizing he had never broached the topic of ever, ever telling his friends, but his mouth keeps on talking. It's a grace and a flaw at the same time, but right now it's fucking him over. "You know I don't like that, fuck. Christ. Fuck!"
Roxas just stares at him, embarrassed, eyes narrowed- a crowd has started to form. A small one, but a crowd nonetheless. "I'm sorry you never told me you were actually straight." He spits out, fists clenched. "I just assumed, what with the fucking and the whole 'oh, we're dating' thing', you were actually gay!"
Axel seethes, cheeks flushing. "I never said I was fucking gay. I'm not a faggot." At this, some men in the audience- gay, no doubt- belittle him, saying he's not gay enough to even consider using the word. He ignores them, drilling holes into Roxas' eyes. "But now Demyx thinks I am, and he'll tell everyone I fucking know!"
Roxas glares back, crossing his arms over his chest. "Oh, you mean the friends you haven't talked to since gradation? Big fucking deal!"
"It is a big fucking deal!" Axel yells, arms up. "Cuz they'll know I'm dating you!"
And there is a long, drawn out pause- one where Roxas emotion's show plain on his face and Axel is remembering that he's done this before.
Then Roxas turns around, face blank, and walks away- just like that. Doesn't even turn around as he disappears down the alley.
Axel stares at him, and before anyone else can say anything he turns around and viciously kicks a chair, screaming every expletive he knows.
All he's done since he got home is watched shitty porn and drank shitty beer- what his normal nights with his buddies consisted of, plus some great girls that didn't mind a little exhibitionism, but tonight he is all alone- a fact he nurses with a beer and a scowl.
It is only two hours before he swears, throws the remote, and walks out the door, intent on finding Roxas. His boyfriend, he repeats in his head, as he heads down the stairs.
It takes him another three hours before he finally decides to look where Roxas works- he's looked through the park, the dock, his school, the movies, anywhere he thinks the blond might be.
So he walks to the little coffee shop, asks Olette- who he's gotten to know is Roxas' friend at school and the one who got him the job- where the other boy is. Olette tells him he went out back for a smoke. She asks him to talk to him because he's been out there for awhile and he looked so troubled when he came in.
And he does, walking outside to the alley because he isn't allowed in the back- when he gets there, he stops, squinting as he sees two figures pressed against the wall. His first thought is that Roxas is cheating on him before the first figure- the one pressing what he presumes is his boyfriend to the wall- brings his arm back and punches Roxas.
He makes a guttural noise in the back of his throat, but it doesn't stop the other man as he kicks Roxas in what must be the face- the blond yells, the sound dying into a gurgle as he's kicked in the stomach.
When Axel finally wills his legs to move, he is only two feet away from the fight before he realizes who is hurting his boyfriend- his friend. Demyx, who looks angry, disgusted, and hurt.
"Demyx-" he says, voice angry and amazed at the same time.
"Quiet, traitor." Demyx whispers, sweeping a hand through his dirty hair as he kicks Roxas on the thigh. The blond moans in pain, curling in on himself.
And that is all he can take- because, this is Roxas lying on the ground and this is Demyx kicking him, and who he cares more for becomes clearer with each breath.
He touches Demyx's arm, who turns around, eyes questioning- right up until he punches him with all he has.
The other boy falls brutally, shoulder hitting the ground first, a keel of pain escaping him. He doesn't see Roxas face as he flips the other boy over with his foot, staring down.
"Don't ever touch Roxas again." He growls, eyes shining. Demyx looks up at him, surprise and anger written on his features, and he nudges the boy's leg. He doesn't want to hurt someone he still considers his friend. "If you have a problem, bring it up with me."
Demyx looks at him- and he can't really tell what he's thinking but the retreat is quiet, almost too easy. The musician walks out of the alley, not looking back, not saying a word.
When he finally turns around, Roxas is still on the ground, shaking. Axel walks over to him, kneeling, looking over him- the feeling that's enveloping him is one of fear, sickness, panic. Worse than way back when, when Roxas was still new and sex was something to be afraid of.
Way worse, he thinks, looking over the boy who stares at him with a slowly blackening eye, a bloody nose and a fat lip.
"I'm sorry." Axel croaks out, grabbing the boy, gently dragging him up. Roxas moans in pain but doesn't resist. He's as careful as he can be, and it's an excruciating process. It ends with Roxas in his arms, face buried in his neck and Axel taking deep breathes because, fuck, it hurts- he could have helped sooner, or stopped Demyx, or not got Roxas mad, or anything. Anything, fuck.
"I'm so sorry." He whispers, then takes a shaky breath in. He feels the trails of wetness on his cheeks before he even knows he's crying. "I didn't mean for that to happen. I didn't, and it sucks you got involved. I'm sorry."
Roxas just makes a noise, leaning into him. Axel takes another shaky breath. "I can't believe he did this to you. I can't believe it. I'm sorry."
He feels lips against his neck, maybe an acceptance of his apology, and his breath hitches at the contact. Before he can stop, he blurts out. "Fuck, I love you so much. I didn't mean for this to happen, I'm sorry."
Roxas stills against his neck and he stiffens as well, anxiety growing in his chest as they sit there in the alley. He's not sure what to say after this confession, so he sits, horror sitting in his chest like still water.
Roxas brings up his hands and wraps them around his ears weakly, turning his face so they're staring at each other. The blond smiles, blue eyes shining, and Axel smiles nervously back, embarrassed.
"I love you too." He slurs, kissing him softly- Axel can feel the boy wince when his lips press too hard to his. His heart bursts in his chest at the words, at the soft way the boy looks at him. "Take me home?"
Roxas' face has healed well over Christmas break- the black eye and tender lip are gone, but his nose has a slight bump that Axel often teases him for. The blond always gets offended until Axel kisses it, laughing.
It is when Axel is heading to class- Geography, which is always boring but the only thing he has to do on his Sunday mornings- that he spots a head of dirty hair and a slouched form, strumming a sitar and singing lightly about fast cars.
He stops in front of the blond, who doesn't look up and continues singing. The last strum is still vibrating in the air when he finally looks up. They look at each other for a second before Demyx looks away, strumming lazily on the chords.
Axel takes a step closer and almost laughs when Demyx flinches. He stays silent, staring, until the other boy speaks.
"I actually thought..." The musician starts, pausing, then laughing mirthlessly. "He tricked you. Or something. But then... I thought, that kiss was too... fucking... Romantic or something. And you looked like you didn't care. And... fuck. You're a faggot. A faggot, dude."
Axel stares down at him, lips curling in anger. "I'm not a fucking faggot. Say it again and I'll kick you in the face."
This actually makes Demyx pause, but he still doesn't look up- his thumb plays lazily over the strings of his sitar. "You're kissing a boy, dude."
Axel doesn't know what to say to this- he fingers the twenties he has in his pockets, runs his nails over the wallet Roxas got him from Christmas. "Whatever." He finally says. "You know my number, you know where I live."
Demyx stays silent, plays a few chords of 'Smells Like Teen Spirit'; he makes a decision and pulls out three twenties and throws them in Demyx top hat, which is ironically the one Axel got him as a graduating present. He almost laughs.
"Seeya, Dem." He says, and turns on his heel, never expecting to see the boy again.
It is only hours after that when he gets a call from someone he'd rather not hear from.
"Is it true?" Vincent says- the phone line crackles in his ear, sharp and painful.
"Is what true?" Axel plays dumb- throws his books on the table, kicks his shoes off. He hears Roxas in the shower, and thanks God he isn't in the room for this conversation.
"Don't play dumb with me." His father hisses. Axel hears the crack of paper in the background, can imagine his father clenching his fists against the smooth table. Remembers what he looked like when Reno was caught on his bed, bent, on top of another man- disgusted, angry, sick.
Axel is silent because he doesn't know what to say- doesn't know how to tell his father, or even ask him how he knew. Demyx flashes across his mind and he definitely knows he'll never speak to the other boy again.
After another minute of silence he says, defeated. "I guess I'm not your son anymore."
Vincent is silent, just like he always used to be. He feels like Cain in front of God.
"I never had a son."
The phone goes click and the dial tone screams in his ear- it is the song of oblivion, of being something you never were.
He turns around, phone still in his ear, and smiles- Roxas sees something before he feels anything and his arms are around his frame in a second, wet but warm and familiar.
"Oh, Axel." He whispers, hands holding his head, kissing his cheeks, eyelids, and mouth. "Are you ok?"
And for a second, the situation rears up in his mind and he realizes he doesn't have a family anymore- no brother, father, and his mother has been gone for years. He doesn't even know where she lives anymore. He feels angry, abandoned, alone- and it's all fucking R-
Then Roxas' looks at him, love in his eyes, life in his arms, and Axel's anger deflates. Just like that.
"Yeah, baby." He says quietly, face drawn in defeat but acceptance. "I'm alright."
It's ten o' clock in the evening, and after a hard day of classes, he had come home to supper and a 'happy belated birthday'- he had laughed, because Roxas had been to his birthday party a week ago.
"It's our birthday party." The blond had said, grinning, holding up a spoon of alfredo sauce. "Now open up, I wanna see if I did this right."
And it had been a good supper, which had ended in a tango to the bedroom after a little whipped cream fight, where they had made love in long rectangles of sunlight. Now though, Roxas was sleeping, head rested on the crook of his elbow, mouth opened slightly. It was dark out now, and he guessed he must have fallen asleep, too.
It is when he goes to move the hair curling into Roxas' mouth that he stalls, staring at the boy and thinking about how beautiful he looks; this is where his mind stutters and stops, and a single thought hits him full force- Holy fuck, I'm gay.
This is where pictures start bombarding him- where girls turned into heat around his cock, a flirty wink and big breasts just made him smile, and where every time he saw a boy naked he had to make sure he stayed looking up, maybe turn around and dress with his face towards his locker.
Then there is Roxas, who he smiles just thinking about. Who he can laugh with and tease. Who he can kiss and fuck and be turned on because it's the blond boy under him, not a nameless girl.
Then he thinks- No. Wait, this is ok. Because I love him. And he loves me. And holy fuck, that sounded gayer then gay, but it's still ok.
It is when he is waiting for the nausea to hit- though it hasn't in weeks- that Roxas opens his eyes lazily, yawning wide before focusing on him.
"Don't be a creep." He mumbles, bringing up his hand and rubbing the sleep out of his eye. "I'm ugly when I sleep. You don't have to stare."
Axel laughs and kisses his forehead, rubbing his feet against Roxas' calf. He knows the boy hates it when he does that, because his feet are always too sweaty and hot. "No way. You're always beautiful, darlin'." He drawls.
Roxas snorts and hits his chest weakly, stretching a bit. "So, whatchu gonna do today, Mr. Twenty year old? Sex, drugs, rock n' roll? Or are you actually gonna go to your literature class?"
Axel pouts, trying to look childish. "I always go. Except when it's Shakespeare. And we're just on Shakespeare right now."
The blond just rolls his eyes and goes to move- Axel traps him with his arms and Roxas laughs. "Whatchu going to do instead of that, then?"
Axel nuzzles his neck, grinning and blowing on the spot below his ear. Roxas just shivers into him. "Sex? Drugs? Rock n' roll?"
Roxas mock gasps, turning over with wide eyes. Axel laughs, eyes glittering. "I'm only a minor! Dare you tempt me?"
"That'll be remedied in a week, my dear. But for now-" He kisses Roxas' lips quickly, laughing into his mouth. "I better give you some experience."
Roxas laughs again, forcefully turning himself over and hopping off the bed before Axel can do anything. "Nice try, though. I have to get to work. Early shift. You knew that."
Kicking the blankets off, he goes around to hug Roxas again, kissing him- the blond surrenders into the kiss easily, and he thinks this boy is going to be eighteen. He'll be legal, I'll be twenty, and- he's graduating. And I love him.
"Two years." He says thoughtfully, pulling away from Roxas. The other boy looks back at him, raising one eyebrow quizzically. "It's been about two years since we met, remember? Back at that stupid party?"
Roxas hums, stringing his arms around Axel's neck. "Really? Two years?"
"Yep. Think that's about enough time for you to move in here? You know I suck at paying rent, anyway."
Roxas looks at him, face surprised, mouth forming an 'o'; his lips form into a curl after a second. "You're asking me to move in with you?"
"Yeah. Pretty much." Axel says; nervousness sits in his stomach but he brushes it off, reaching a hand up to play with a lock of blond hair that keeps on falling in Roxas' eyes. "You in?"
Roxas giggles, kissing him quickly. "Sure. Only because you asked so nicely."
And Axel just smiles- because here is a boy he loves, and here is a boy that loves him.
"Alright than, baby." He says thoughtfully, kissing Roxas again. "I'll be waiting for when you get back home."