Hello and welcome to the third installment of my Organization XIII AU fanfic collection! If you've read any of my previous in this series then you know how this whole thing goes. If this is your first time reading one of my fics then let me tell you just exactly what you're in for.

This is rated MATURE for a reason. I will try to be as courteous as possible when letting you know prior to smut scenes but for the most part you just need to be aware that there WILL BE graphic scenes in this story. If you happen to read them and enjoy them, that's wonderful. But if you read them and it isn't your cup of tea, don't get pissed at me because it was fair warning. I warn you at the start of the chapter if it contains smut and I tell you where to stop reading and where to pick back up. If you can't handle that, kindly press the back button and go away.

Other than that, I'm prone to go off on ranting tangents in my author's note at any given moment. Deal.

Also, I don't mind anonymous reviews but I do prefer reviews under an account. I seldom reply to reviews. I usually try to respond to most of them all at once when I post the following chapter but there are often times where I may be weeks away from posting a chapter. Thus, it is annoying when I find reviews that I feel are important and need to be replied to but I can't because they were left under the anon feature. I reserve the right to delete any anon reviews, period. If you don't want your review deleted then sign in or create an account and review. Then at least that way I can reply to you. But in doing so, keep in mind that the review is for critique only. It's not to be abused. If you abuse it (like most anon reviewers do) you'll be made a fool of, likely ignored and possibly deleted.

Now that that's all clear and out of the way…

On to this story! It's AkuRoku of course and it's set in the 80's. It may not appeal to some due to the genre of music that the characters listen to but it's not like you're actually listening to the music. (Although I strongly encourage it!) But underneath the setting it is still a love story so hopefully you can appreciate that and perhaps enjoy the story for what it is.

Note: The title of the story and all the chapters will be titles of Misfits songs.

I own nothing. :(

Now please enjoy!


Roxas had lived in Salem, Oregon his entire life. It was peaceful, quiet and tranquil. It was everything he had been taught to believe that life should be. It was boring… But it was life as he had always known it and he lived it the way his parents told him to; Responsibly. He was graduating at the top of his class from Sacred Heart Academy, a private Catholic school, and his parents couldn't have been prouder. They were the ones that encouraged him to succeed at all costs so that he could make something of himself.

It was now that he packed his bags and stared at the two brochures laying on his bed that he wished he had put forth a little less effort. He had been accepted to two colleges in California. The first was Loyola Marymount University, the school his father had attended in Los Angels. The second was Holy Names University located in Oakland where his mother had attended college. Both schools were very important to his parents, very far from home and of course, very Catholic. Had he known he would have been doomed to attend private schools his entire education he would have tried less in his schoolwork. It might have given him the opportunity to apply at another college had the two he'd been accepted to turned him down. Still, he had promised his parents he would try with everything he had to attend either university.

Now he was readying himself for a summer in California. He had an aunt that lived in Los Angeles and it was with this woman whom he hardly knew that he would be living for the next few months. While in California he would visit both colleges and decide for sure which university he was going to attend. He was also faced with the task of possibly finding a job. He hadn't told his parents yet but he was planning on finding a job in California once he got there. His family was well off and had plenty of money put away to pay for the tuition of either college as well as a dorm room. But Roxas wanted his own money and for the first time in his life he wanted a responsibility that was all his own. He had big plans for his future and he wanted to prove to his parents that he could be everything they wanted. He tinkered with his necklace, a crucifix his parents had given him at a young age, and continued to pack his bags with anticipation.

--

After a tearful goodbye from his mother and encouraging words from his father, Roxas had boarded his plane and taken seat on the short flight to Los Angeles. In no time at all the plane landed in LAX and he was standing at baggage claim. Apparently his cousin was supposed to be waiting for him somewhere around there but he had no idea what the boy looked like. He gazed longingly at the line of people holding signs but none of them had his name on it. He sighed heavily and grabbed up his bags. Slowly he made his way through the airport crowd trying to find anybody who might be able to help him. After asking several employees he was directed to the front of the airport where he was told some people would wait for new arrivals. He finally made his way to the outside where more people stood holding signs. Many were faces of different ethnicities that he had never seen before and it amazed him to see such a collection of different people in one place. His eyes were drawn away from the clutter of strange faces however by a young man standing quite a distance from the main group of people.

The boy was dressed in a way that was initially frightening to Roxas. His hair was as tall as the soles on his shoes and fashioned in the strangest way Roxas had ever seen. His back was turned but Roxas could imagine that the front side of his jeans were just as torn and mutilated as the back side. The thick studded belt around his waist did little to draw attention away from the towering spikes jutting dangerously out of the shoulders of his leather jacket. As the unusual figure turned around Roxas saw that he held a torn up piece of cardboard in his hands with Roxas' name on it. His heart dropped into his stomach and he released his hold on his luggage. This person that stood before him obnoxiously popping bubble gum while bopping his head to the music pumping through the headphones on his walkman was Roxas' cousin… No question about it. He swallowed hard and reclaimed his luggage from the ground before taking a few swift steps toward the boy. As he drew closer he noted his cousin was wearing more make-up than he had ever seen any woman wear in his entire life. He cleared his throat and stood waiting for the boy to notice him but he seemed too concerned with swinging his head around wildly. After a moment Roxas grew impatient and reached out to tap him lightly.

"Ehh? Oh!" Demyx blinked widely and stared down at Roxas a moment before tugging off his headphones and swallowing his gum. "You must be Roxas! Good to meet you finally. I'm Demyx. I'm your cousin!"

Roxas nodded slowly. "It's nice to meet you too. I uh… I'm sorry it took so long for me to find you. I was told you'd be waiting near the baggage claim."

"Oh, yeah. About that…" Demyx smiled and flicked one of the spikes on his shoulder. "Apparently I'm a threat to airport security with my wardrobe today. They wouldn't let me in…"

"Aren't you hot in that jacket?" Roxas wiped the sweat from his brow and looked up at the broiling sun. "It's at least ninety degrees!"

Demyx snorted. "Shit… It's more than that! Ninety-six right now. But that's just the beginning." He smiled and motioned for Roxas to follow him as he made his way back to their transportation. "You haven't seen how hot it can get in Southern California until you're here in the dead of July."

"And you wear that jacket all year long?" Roxas followed after Demyx hurriedly as the longer legged boy lead the way.

Demyx cast a glance at Roxas over his shoulder as though the boy was stupid. "Is that some kind of smart ass shit you're trying to give me kid?"

"N-no!" Roxas swallowed hard. "It's a legitimate question. I was just curious."

"Oh." Demyx shrugged and quickened his pace. "Well no, generally I don't wear the sleeves during summer. They zip on and off. But I just got new ink done and I gotta keep it covered. Don't want the sun burning and blistering it…"

Roxas cocked his head to the side in curiosity. "Ink?"

"Yeah, you know. Ink. Tattoos." Demyx shook his head. "What the shit, kid. Don't they teach you anything in those fancy schools of yours?"

"Only what they are supposed to teach us." He looked up at Demyx questioningly. "What are tattoos?"

"Are you fucking kidding me?" Demyx halted in his tracks and turned to face Roxas squarely. "Body art… Visual expressions of one's inner soul. A permanent reminder that we're human and we bleed and die like every other living thing on this God forsaken planet. You can't honestly say you've never heard of a fucking tattoo."

Roxas blushed sheepishly and looked away.

"Fucking A, kid. Strap yourself in… You're gonna have one hell of a summer." Demyx shook his head and continued on until he reached the black Mercedes Benz that had been waiting for them. He unlocked Roxas' door and then quickly crawled through to the drivers seat and popped the trunk. "Load your things in and then get in. I got somewhere I gotta be tonight."

Roxas looked at the car admirably and smiled. "This is a really nice car."

"Yeah, it's mom's. I wanted to pick you up on my ride but she said you'd probably have luggage. Guess the old lady's right every once in a while." He reached into his pocket and pulled out another piece of gum which he quickly deposited in his mouth before turning the key in the ignition. When Roxas finally joined him in the car Demyx ejected the cassette from his walkman and inserted it into the tape deck of the luxury car. "You like music?"

Roxas nodded. "I've never listened to much music. Only a few Christian faith songs my mother had on a record… But I do like it."

Demyx scoffed. "Ok, I should have asked if you liked real music. I want to introduce you to my friends, The Ramones." He smirked and pressed the play button on the tape deck.

Roxas jumped at the initial blast of music blaring through the speakers of the car. He covered his ears with his hands and looked at Demyx desperately. "Isn't this a bit loud!?"

"What!?" Demyx looked at Roxas as he began to pull out of his parking space. "You think it needs to be louder!?"

"No!" Roxas groaned and leaned closer to Demyx. "I said it's TOO LOUD!"

"Too loud!?" Demyx chuckled and shook his head. "Shit kid, this is the only way to listen to real music! Loud! Now take your hands off your ears and experience the outside world for a little while!"

Roxas hesitantly pulled his hands away from his head. He let the fast paced music fill his ears and after a moment an almost melodic voice chimed in with the beat. He listened intently to the song and after a while a smile crawled onto his face.

"Rock, rock, rock, rock, rock n' roll high school!" Demyx sang loudly and laughed. He glanced at Roxas who had a small smile on his face. "See! Doesn't it make you feel good!?"

Roxas nodded slowly. "It's a strange feeling! But I think I like it!" He listened to the rest of the song and the two that followed. After that the music stopped and he looked reluctantly at the tape deck. "Is that it?"

"Yeah, sorry. I was listening to most of the tape while I was waiting for you." Demyx glanced around in search of another tape. "I was in such a rush to pick you up I only had time to grab my walkman. I was just lucky that tape was already in there. But I know for sure I left my Dead Kennedys cassette in here somewhere."

"Dead what?" Roxas looked at Demyx questioningly a moment before shrugging. "Never mind, it's not important. We can talk. We should get to know each other if we're going to be living together for the next few months."

"Uh… We're not living together. You and my mom are living together. I'm moving out." Demyx gave up on his search for his cassette and returned his eyes to the road. "Hollywood baby!"

"You're not moving out because of me, are you?" Roxas looked at Demyx worriedly. "I don't mind sleeping on the couch. I don't want to take your room."

"Naw, it's not even that. I'm twenty-two years old. It's about damned time I moved out. I've been waiting to find the right place and a buddy of mine just kicked his girlfriend out so he's got space in his apartment." Demyx snickered. "Bout time he got rid of that prissy bitch anyhow. So I've been slowly moving my shit into his place. I have a few things left and whatever I don't take is yours for the keeping. That includes the bed. I'm probably just gonna crash on his couch."

"Oh." Roxas looked down discouraged. "So I probably won't see much of you then."

Demyx smirked and glanced at Roxas. "Look kid, if you wanna hang out with me that's fine. I don't give a shit… Just man up and say it."

"Well, it would be nice to have somebody to hang out with this summer." Roxas smiled eagerly and nodded. "Yeah, I want to hang out with you."

"Alright. That's all you needed to say. But I'm warning you, I don't have the nicest friends in the world. Some of them are cool but most of them are dicks. I ain't gonna tell you how to dress and whatnot. Fuck that conformist shit! But fair warning, some of these guys are gonna bust your balls for wearing the kind of shit you got on now. And that ain't the only thing they'll give you shit about. You'll get hell for just about everything they can find wrong about you. Makes them feel better about all the things wrong with themselves, and believe me, there's plenty wrong with each of them. But as long as you can learn to take it and dish it back you'll be fine." Demyx smiled. "So what do you say? Let's drop your shit off at mom's and then head out to Hollywood to catch a show."

"A show?" Roxas cocked an eyebrow at Demyx curiously. "A movie?"

"A movie!? Hell no! A show! A concert! You know, music!" Demyx smiled. "There's a local band playing tonight… Black Flag. They fucking rock and I heard a rumor that tonight is the last time Dez Cadena is gonna sing on the West coast. Then they're headed for the East coast and after that he wants to play guitar. Man, I don't know what the fuck they're gonna do without him on vocals."

Roxas nodded slowly and pretended to understand everything Demyx told him. As they exited the freeway and headed into a residential area Roxas learned many interesting facts about bands Demyx was a fan of and where this motion he called "Punk Rock" originated. Apparently it had started with The Ramones in 1974, the very music they had been listening to earlier. It also was apparently split into sub divisions of which Demyx had a lot to say about each.

There was Punk… Plain punk which was simple yet powerful. It was music that stood against what society grasped as normal and reached out with a vision of what life was truly like. There was Hardcore Punk… It was an in your face, abrasive movement with a "Fuck you" attitude and an anti-conformist style. It too was split into two divisions of "Hollywood Punk" and "Beach Punk" which Demyx informed Roxas was more of an idiotic territorial struggle than anything else. Then there was British Punk which Demyx frowned upon heavily. He was, as he called himself, a Punk Purist and had little tolerance for the few bands that he named such as The Clash and The Sex Pistols claiming they were in it for the fashion and money and had no idea what the punk lifestyle was truly about. Demyx backed up this argument with the fact that Sid Vicious, supposed bassist for The Sex Pistols couldn't play bass "worth a shit" and was only in the band for looks while other musicians picked up Sid's slack in the studio on the actual albums. This was, as Demyx called it, a deathblow to punk lifestyle as they knew it. Then there was a sub genre called "New Wave" which Demyx seemed to dislike with just as much fervor as he did British Punk. It was "Punk for Pussies" as he stated it and instructed Roxas to immediately dispose of the term from his vocabulary all together. Lastly, Demyx told Roxas about Horror Punk which focused on a more morbidly idealistic way of life but still maintained that gritty sound Roxas had grown to like from listening to The Ramones. Demyx told Roxas about The Misfits who had a unique sound all their own. He made a mention of a friend, Axel, who was a huge fan and would fly out of state to see them whenever he had the funds.

It was with all this information swirling in his head that Roxas stepped out of the car as they pulled into the driveway of the quaint little suburbian house he would be living in. He grabbed his bags out of the trunk and followed Demyx up the porch stairs to the door.

"Be quiet now… Mom works nights so she sleeps during the day." Demyx smiled and turned the key in the door. "And believe me… You do not want to wake her up."

Roxas nodded slowly and followed Demyx into the house. He let his cousin lead him up the stairs to his room which was nearly empty save for a bed, a dresser and a few posters on the wall. He dropped his bags just inside the door and smiled. The room was large and had a window overlooking the pool in the backyard. It was bigger than his room back in Oregon and at the thought of his home he remembered he needed to call his parents. "Can I use your phone? I need to call my parents and let them know I made it here safely."

"It's your phone now kid…" Demyx motioned to the phone attached to the jack in the wall. "It's a private line and for a while you'll probably still get some old friends of mine trying to reach me. Just tell them to fuck off." He chuckled and looked at a clock on the wall. "Holy shit, I didn't realize it was so late! Your call home is gonna have to wait. Hurry up, you've gotta change. Put on something you don't mind getting blood on. It's already five-thirty!"

Roxas looked at Demyx questioningly but began digging through his bags until he found an old short sleeve button up dress shirt he had brought for days that he might need clothes that were alright for getting dirty. Along with the shirt he pulled out a pair of khaki pants and quickly dressed as Demyx prodded him to rush. He pulled his shoes back on and began to ask why Demyx was so full of panic but he never received the chance. His cousin gripped his wrist and dragged him down the stairs and into the garage. Inside the garage Roxas saw the most curious looking vehicle in his life. It looked like a motorcycle which Roxas had seen on the freeway only it was much smaller, differently shaped and bright blue. "What is that?"

Demyx turned to look at Roxas after popping open the garage. "That is my pride and joy. I bought this baby back in 1977... It's a Vespa." He smiled and climbed onto his vehicle. "It's an Italian motorcycle. I like it because it's sleek, small enough to park anywhere and I don't have to do much upkeep on it. Now hop on, we gotta go."

Roxas started toward the scooter reluctantly. "Shouldn't I wear a helmet or something?"

"I don't have helmets for it." Demyx laughed lightly. "Could you imagine how hard it would be to fix my hair if I wore a helmet?"

"Well, the wind will…" Roxas sighed and decided against finishing his statement. He knew Demyx wouldn't listen anyhow. He climbed onto the Vespa behind Demyx and gripped his waist as he started the vehicle and pulled out of the garage. He had never been on any form of open vehicle and it terrified him. He looked at his cousin as the boy dismounted and went to close the garage door. "Y-you're not going to go fast, are you?"

"Nah, this baby won't go over forty." He climbed back in front of Roxas. "That's why we have to leave now. We can't go on the freeway so we'll have to take side roads to Hollywood. It'll take a hell of a lot longer but mom would kill me if I ever took her car to a show. Now hold on tight kid…"