Disclaimer: Insert something witty in relation to the fact that I do not own Kingdom Hearts

Warning: Boys lovin' boys

A/N: Yay, new fic. I'll try to make this as un-cliched high school fic as possible for you guys. Not saying I'll succeed, but I'll try. And for those of you waiting for an Obviously update, it'll be up Thursday hopefully!

Dad's leaning against the car with his arms crossed, chest puffed out, and chin up as he glances around the yard, trying to act nonchalant. Yeah, any moment now and he's going to turn into a bumbling prat. I know this because my father has the mentality of a ten year old. This means that he tries to act like tough shit, but is just a pitiful pile of goop waiting to happen.

Seriously, last year we all went to the Winter Parade (and by 'we all' I mean me, my dad, and step-mom) that they put on every year that starts in Market Street and eventually ends at Sunset Terrace, and Dad started crying. I shit you not, he started all out bawling—I don't even know why! We were all just standing there with the other families on the side of the street, me talking to Hayner and my step-mom chatting away with her sister who had been visiting us for the season. Just as a float dedicated to Yen Sid (some guy who apparently saved our town a shit-ton of year ago) passes by, Dad busts out in tears.

The twelve-year-old little girl standing next to us called him a pussy and went to find somewhere else to stand.

"You know, Roxas, you really don't have to go,"

Dear god, I hoped he didn't start crying. I did not have the time to deal with this by myself.

"Dad," I sighed. Best to handle him gently, otherwise he would explode. And by explode I mean have a mental breakdown. To his credit, though, he looked pretty good so far. No watering eyes or trembling lower lip. In all honesty, Dad was actually a pretty macho guy…who liked to cry on occasion. By occasion, I mean at least once a week. Alright, maybe I'm exaggerating a little bit. He didn't full out cry all the time (He did at the parade, though), most of the time he just pouted like a little kid and wallowed in his own misery…or got over-emotional at Disney movies.

"I do have to. I want to," I insisted.

"But Roxas," Okay, he was whining now. I wasn't above reprimanding my own father—I had to do it on occasion. "You can just stay here, nothing's going to change. It'll be the same as always, you'll still be a part of this family, we won't treat you any differently!"

"I know that, Dad. Christ," I groaned, running a hand through my hair. "You know that's not why I'm doing this,"

"But that's what brought it on, right?" he questioned as he threw his hands in the air. He better not start a scene; we were standing in the middle of the driveway and the neighbors already thought we were crazy. Well, Dad was crazy. It was usually me and Serah (my step-mom) who had to do the damage control on the situation and kindly explain (read: lie) the neighbors into not calling the police for public disturbance. After I leave, I really don't know if Serah will be able to manage it by herself. I mean, the woman's pretty tough—hell, she's damn right scary when she wants to be—,you pretty much have to be when you're in a relationship with Dad to keep him in line, but a four month old pregnant lady can only do so much.

"Come on, Roxas, you don't want to be a brother?" the man squawked. Rolling my eyes, I sighed.

"I already am a brother. You know, to your other son? The reason I'm moving in the first place?"

"That's why you're moving?" he made it sound like this was news to him. It wasn't. "You guys see each other every summer…and winter break…and spring break!"

"Dad, we have been over this," I grit out. This man couldn't be forty-some years old, or however the hell old he was. How that was even possible with the way he was acting was beyond me. More importantly, how the hell had Mom fallen in love with the guy? How had Serah fallen in love with the guy? "It's not the same. It's been ten years—"

"Exactly! So what's one more year—then you guys can go off to college together!"

I opened my mouth to respond—a.k.a. flip a shit and freak out on him—when a lilting voice called out, coming towards us.

"Snow, give the poor boy a break and stop harassing him!"

Thank god for Serah.

Seriously, she's a gift to this earth. She's one of the few people who can keep Dad in line, and probably the best who can do it non-violently. Mom can, uh, get kind of aggressive. And by kind of I mean vases are thrown…and they usually make their target. It was our ninth birthday party and I really don't want to talk about it. All I have to say is that Dad had it coming to him.

Dad glanced over his shoulder, still pouting as the wind whipped hair into his eyes, pale blonde pieces flying everywhere. From the house emerged Serah, carefully flouncing down the steps of the front walk as her pink ponytail bounced on her shoulder. Her long, beaded necklace gave a final hop against her round belly as she came to a stop before the two us, flashing me a sweet smile before fixing Dad with a scowl.

Oh yes, I loved this woman.

"What did I tell you, Snow?" she snapped, placing a hand on her hip.

Serah Villiars, nee Farron, was a sweet lady, and had unfortunate fate of running into my Dad seven years go. A year later, she moved in. Six months after that, Dad proposed and the wedding was grand—there was a lot of cake. As aforementioned, she's probably one of the sweetest people I know, and almost always has a smile ready for you. You can go to her for just about anything and she'll give you some time of wise, profound advice, and would do anything for the people she cares about…I still don't understand how someone so great wound up with Dad (Same thing goes for my mom, because, honestly, my mom is kickass, if not a bit scary) but I'm glad she did. She's good for him, and knows when to get tough with him.

That's how I know she's going to be a good mom to the kid on the way—she can put up with Dad.

"We went over this last night, we talked about it as a family at the beginning of the summer, and this is what Roxas wants to do," she continued, wagging a finger at him. "We have no right to stop him; he's almost an adult,"

"But he's not an adult yet, Serah!" Dad shot back, serious. Yeah, he could be serious, surprise, surprise. "That's the point! As long as he is seventeen—which is until next spring, mind you—he has to do what I say!"

Serah narrowed her pale blue eyes, pursing her lips, "Do you want your son to hate you for the rest of your life?"

Maybe I was the bad guy for just sitting here and doing nothing while my dad had his ass handed to him by his 5'4" wife. Not that height had anything to do with it; I was 5'6" and knew for a fact that I could easily knock out someone over six feet tall. I did it in Tekken all the time.

"No," Dad grumbled under his breath miserably.

"Do you know what will happen if you don't let him leave?"

A sigh, and then another grumble.

"He will hate you. Do you want that?"

"I just said no!"

"Then let him go!"

Dad groaned, muttering profanities under his breath as he turned back to me. I resisted the urge to grin. "Fine. You can leave,"

"I was going to, anyway," I said smoothly, jiggling my keys in my pocket.

Dad narrowed his eyes, "Or I could chain you up in the basement and never let you leave,"

Smack.

Dad hunched over on the ground. Serah smiled, her pimp hand strong.

"Be safe, Roxas, sweetie," she cooed, coming over to give me a hug, mindful of her protruding stomach. I wrapped my arms around her momentarily before she pulled away, glancing at the quivering pile that was my father. "Did you give him the money?"

"What money?" I asked.

"No," Dad grumbled as he got to his feet, brushing dirt of his jeans.

"And why not?" Serah questioned.

"What money?"

"Because if he doesn't have the money he can't leave," Dad cackled. "My plan is fool-proof!"

"What money?"

The two adults glanced over at me, brows raised.

"Watch your tone, Roxas,"

"Don't raise your voice at me, young man,"

I sighed.

"What money?" I inquired, struggling to keep my voice level. Sometimes…I don't know how I've survived the last ten years.

"Gas money," the two said in unison as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. It wasn't.

"You do know I have my own money, right?"

"You do?" Dad cried, clutching at his hair. How the hell this guy made it through law school is beyond me. How he graduated at the top of his class, second only to Mom, is even more of a mystery.

"Oh, we know you do, sweetheart," Serah said, turning back to me.

"You do?"

"We just thought we'd give you a little extra," she continued, shrugging. "You know, as a going away present,"

"Where the hell did you get money from?"

I don't want you guys to think my dad is a complete and total idiot or anything, he's actually not too bad—ignore the fact that I'm contradicting nearly half of everything I've said. Let's just blame his seeming insanity on the fact that it's been a hard day for him.

"Snow, give him the money," Serah demanded, though you wouldn't be able to tell with the voice she used. Six years living with her and you picked up on the little things. Especially when the little things held the possibility of whether or not you would have kids in the future because you were caught sneaking into the house at two a.m.

When Dad opened his mouth to protest, Serah narrowed her eyes, "Snow,"

"Agh, fine! Go ahead and rip my son away from me, you wench! No, I don't care at all!" He grumbled, ripping a wad of bills out of his pocket and shoving them in my general direction. I plucked the clip from his hands gingerly before he could have a convenient spasm and send the money down the nearest drain grate.

"Uh, guys," I said, glancing over the bills. "I don't think I need four-hundred dollars for gas money,"

"Obviously," Dad said, rolling his eyes. "Half of it's for Sora,"

"Okay…I still don't need two-hundred dollars for gas money," I stated matter-o-factly. "Radiant garden is only four hours away,"

"Well, buy yourself something nice with whatever you have left over," Serah chirped happily, giving me a quick hug. "Now, be safe, don't text and drive, pull over if you feel tired, call us as soon as you get there,"

"Yeah, Serah, I know," I muttered as she continued on her spiel until she was satisfied and sure that she had repeated the entire driver's handbook. She smiled, patting me on the shoulder forlornly as her eyes began to water. Oh god. Oh god, no. NO.

"So, um, yeah, Dad. I'll be seeing you," I stammered quickly as I turned to my dad, trying to get out of there before Serah started crying. It was a known fact that no man could withstand the tears of a woman…Okay, not really, but I couldn't.

"Send Sora and your mother our love," Dad said as he threw me into a huge, bone-crushing hug and refused to let go until Serah, hiccupping as tears silent slid down her cheeks, pried him off. Five minutes later I had jumped in my box-filled car and was speeding out of the neighborhood.

-.-.-

I was born in Radiant garden at 6:15 in the morning, a screaming bundle of what the fuck following three minutes after my 'older' twin brother, Sora. Why I mentioned those three minutes you ask? Because Sora never lets me forget. He always plays the big brother card. Not even in a bad way most of the time, but in the 'I'm your big brother so I have to protect you blahblahblah' rather than the 'I'm older so you have to do what I say, bitch' way.

Our parents had met at law school during their freshman year during some kind of rivalry to be at the top of their class, both too stubborn to ever back down from a challenge. Somewhere along the way, they became friends, which turned to them starting to date, which turned to them getting married and having kids shortly after graduating from law school. Well, technically, it was kind of the other way around. Mom got pregnant and then they got married.

When we were twelve, she explained to us that, in their minds, they were already married and just didn't understand the point of having a ceremony and some dumb certificate with their name on it—which really meant that Mom didn't want to do it and Dad did whatever she said because he really didn't give a shit. The only reason they got married three months into the pregnancy, before you could really tell she was pregnant if she wore a loose enough dress, was, apparently, because Dad's grandma would kill the both of them if they even thought about having children out of wedlock.

So, Great Grandma Jane still thinks that we were conceived on their (nonexistent) honeymoon and were born three months premature. But that's okay because she's dead now.

Sora and I were pretty happy kids and we grew up as the picture perfect suburban family that everyone dreamed of having (bullshit). And then we turned seven and Mom and Dad got a divorce.

There wasn't any fighting or yelling. Nothing out of the norm, at least. No one cheated on anybody, there was no abuse or mistreatment, and there was no throwing of personal belongings out the window and onto the front walk. They just decided…they were better off apart. Apparently, raising two kids together made them realize that they were better off as friends. They'd been best friends before they had started dating, and after the divorce they kept their friendship.

Due to the flaming piece of shit that was the family court system, however, things didn't go down so smoothly as far as custody was involved. In case you weren't aware, the family court is full of a bunch of fuckers known as court judges, and they, contrary to popular belief, are not in the business to make families happy and settle things out. No, they are in the business to royally screw you over. I know this because they declared it perfectly necessary and acceptable to separate Sora and I in the divorce, disregarding the fact that Dad would be moving to Twilight Town for his new job as soon as the divorce was complete, meaning that we would have to drive four hours to see each other. Oh but who the fuck cared because the court found it 'fair' to separate a pair of twins by two hundred miles.

Fuckers.

And it's not like Mom and Dad had a choice in the matter. The court made an arrangement so that someone would be sent to each house every couple of weeks to make sure that everything was going as planned, and there would be 'repercussions' if they were not.

By the time the checkups stopped, both Sora and I were settled into our new lives and already in the third grade, comfortable with our friends and everything else.

I would never say anything about it, but I kind of felt it was my duty to stand by Dad's side, even when I was younger. Though I wanted terribly to be with Sora every moment of every day—because, really, he was the person I was closest to—I couldn't bring myself to leave Dad on his own. For some reason, I felt like it was my responsibility to keep him company and make sure things went okay.

So Sora and I made do with talking to each other on the phone every day. We talked about everything and anything, schools, friends, the lunch lady who wasn't wearing a hair net and had a huge mole smack dab in the middle of her forehead, what our respective parent was cooking for dinner that night, etc. And when we ran out of things to talk about, we stayed on the phone and just sat there. Sometimes I would prove that two angles were congruent using the Vertical Angles Postulate while I listened to Sora slaying zombies. Other times, Sora had to put up with me cursing under my breath (AKA dropping F-bombs like no other, ignoring poor little old Miss Jenkins next door) as I tried to learn a new trick on my skateboard as he tried to write an essay on the theme of 'With ignorance comes fear and with knowledge, safety' as it was shown in To Kill A Mockingbird that was due the next day.

After a while, I got sick of only being able to see Sora on holidays and school breaks. Sora had voiced his distress on multiple occasions, as well. And so, on our seventeenth birthday afew months earlier in which he and Mom came down to Twilight Town (Dad and I had gone to Radiant Garden the previous year), I decided that enough was enough. Of course I didn't tell anyone until the start of summer when I broke the news as gently as I could to Dad.

Which pretty much went: "I'm moving out."

He freaked out and thought I had gotten someone pregnant.

I guess I could've saved that headache by telling him I was gay at some point or another, but that's another story, and it would've been another headache all in it's own.

After much convincing and coercing, and a lot of help from Serah, Dad finally said yes, if not a bit reluctantly. Okay, really reluctantly, but I really didn't give a damn, as long as I had the green light to go, I was leaving. I had called up Mom that night and told her of my plans; she said she would put new sheets on my bed when she got home.

And Sora…Well, Sora still didn't know.

And he wouldn't know until I showed up on the doorstep to surprise him. I guess that's why I was currently locked out of the house.

First, let's get something straight. My mom and brother are the world's deepest sleepers. They can sleep through any noise-related thing, I shit you not. A few summers ago a tree fell on the house during a storm and planted a giant whole through the garage and part of the kitchen. I freaked out and fell out of my bed. They turned over in their sleep and snuggled into their pillow.

At least they didn't snore.

The thing was, however, if you nudged them even the slightest bit, they would be awake in an instant. That part kind of sucked because it meant Sora would never stay asleep long enough for me to draw a giant phallus and a mustache on his face when he dared to drink the last of the chocolate milk.

Jerk.

So this explains why I am currently scaling the side of my house by means of a giant oak tree at ten o'clock at night, nearly killing myself multiple times in the process. First, my shoes kept slipping, and so I resorted to just kicking the damn things off along with my socks and climbing up bare foot. Next, there was the twin pair of rodents who seem to have it out for me, chucking a bundle of acorns at me as I attempted to make it up to the second story of my room. Really, it shouldn't be that hard, but apparently this bitch named karma had it out for me.

At last I reached the branch nearest my window and managed to crawl over to the edge of it. Well, as far as it would go before it gave into my weight and I went plummeting to the ground, probably breaking my neck with the luck I had. Slowly, I climbed to my feet and—Ohhhh, shit, this thing was wobbly. I was gonna die. I was so gonna die. And I bet no one would even find me until Serah flipped a shit because I hadn't called, Dad went on a rampage because he just knew he should've made me stay with him, and Mom wondered just why the hell her baby boy hadn't arrived yet and she just knew she never should've let either of us get a driver's license—that way neither of us could leave the nest and/or get hurt.

OhgodOhgodOhgodOhgod. I really didn't want to be up here. I don't want to die a virgin. Hell, I've barely dated anyone! Do you know how sad that is? To be seven-fucking-teen and have had a total of half a boyfriend in your total lifetime? Why, Roxas, how do you manage to have half a boyfriend? You're not some sociopathic murderer who hacks people into bits and pieces and then dresses what can be salvaged of them in nice clothing and sets them at the dinner table while stroking their cold, dead cheek and telling them that you'll be together forever, are you?

No. I'm not.

My 'half-boyfriend' consisted of one of my closest friends in sophomore year who I had fumbled around awkwardly with in the attempts of a relationship for two weeks before we both agreed that we were complete and total idiots and this wasn't working out.

He was now dating one of my next-door neighbors back in Twilight Down. Her name was Yuna.

…Yeah.

Hesitantly, I took a deep breath, inching forward on the branch. I could do this. I could so do this—I was on top of this! Had it down to an art.

I flailed forward and caught myself awkwardly on the side of my house, hands resting on the tan paneling while my feet remained on the branch, body stretched at an uncomfortable 45 degree angle.

Sometimes…Sometimes, I hated my life.

I fumbled with the locks of my window for some time before finally mentioning to pop one open. Somewhere in the back of the mind I was bothered by the fact that there were locks on the outside of my window and it would be easy for anyone to bust into my room and possibly have their way with me in my sleep. Or kill me. Either one sucked pretty badly. Finally, I popped the second lock open and slid the window pane to the side, trembling horribly all the way.

Almost there. I was almost there and then I would be home free.

Now, I just had to figure out how to actually get myself in through the window, considering my body was stretched as far as it was go and there wasn't any stepping pedestal protruding from the house that I could use.

And so, rocking back on the branch gently to gain momentum, I gradually built up my courage. After this everything would be good in the world. I would end up in my nice, warm bed, and in the morning I could wake Sora up and surprise him. Yeah, it would be great.

I leapt.

I clipped my shoulder on the side of the window, arm hit something undoubtedly fragile on my way in and glass went shattering onto the floor, and my foot caught on the window sill in the last few inches and I was sent sprawling to the ground amidst it all.

I stayed there for the rest of the night.

-.-.-

"Sora," I started hesitantly, gritting my teeth. "What the fuck are you wearing?"

Honestly, I loved my brother. I loved him with all my heart. Out of everyone in my family, I probably got along with him the best (which made sense, considering we were twins, but whatever). That included or older cousin Cloud, as well, because sometimes, Cloud could be a prissy little bitch—Which, by proxy meant that I was calling myself a prissy little bitch considering Cloud and I shared much of the same mannerisms, but that wasn't important right now.

Just because I loved Sora, however, did not mean that I didn't want to drop kick him and throw him in the nearest gutter on occasion.

Right now was one of those occasions.

"U-Uhm, clothes?" Sora squeaked, fiddling with the hem of his blazer. Last time I checked, public schools do not require you to wear blazers. Neither do they require you to wear matching pressed navy blue pants, button up shirt, cuff-links and a handkerchief (tucked neatly into the breast pocket, mind you) with the school emblem printed onto them. Last time I checked, public schools didn't even have emblems—they had mascots! Last time I checked, you didn't go to public school looking like a miniature-business man! You went to school in a t-shirt in jeans, like I currently was!

And I told him all of this.

"W-Well you see, what had happened was…" he started nervously. I narrowed my eyes.

"Oh my god, I'm sorry, Roxas!" Sora groaned, throwing himself at my feet. "I-I was just so excited when you got here! I mean you just suddenly showed up and everything, and, like, after we got over the whole 'Ohmyjeebus my Roxas is here!' thing, the first thing you told me was to change schools. And I totally was going to; it was on the top of my list.

"But, the thing is, I wasn't really over the whole 'Ohmyjeebus my Roxas is here!' because, you know, I was like 'Holy shit! Roxas is here! My super awesome brother who I love so so so so so much and would do anything for—"

"Flattery will get you nowhere,"

"Heh heh, yeah, um…well…I seriously was really excited! A-And I was so excited that I might've…kind of sort of forgotten to send in my transfer papers,"

"You what?"

"I'm sorryyyyy," he whined.

Oh no. Oh hell no.

You see, our mom was kind of overprotective. And by kind of, I mean really. It was her role in life to make sure absolutely nothing happened to her precious baby boys, and if anyone dared to change that, she would happily throw them under a bus. Without a second thought. And would set them on fire before doing so.

From a young age, she had taught us to always be safe, and had even gone as far as to teach us Brazilian Jiu-Jitsu's, which she was a black-belt in. Having thought she raised us right (even when I was four hours away part of the time), she trusted us to be smart and make good decisions, and so gave us quite a bit of space to do what we wanted. She always insisted that we lived our lives to the fullest, as long as the stupid shit we did didn't seriously injure us.

Really, the best mother of the year. (No, seriously, I loved my mom.)

What she didn't trust, according to her, was other people. And so, after hearing wind of quite a few brawls at the local high school Sora was to attend that had ended in a possible hospitalization of a student, Mom immediately signed Sora up to go the nearest private school where he spent the last three years.

Upon my arrival, Sora and I immediately tried to change Mom's mind on schools, because there was no way in hell that I could keep my sanity at a private school. Not that I had anything against them, but I had heard plenty of stories from Sora, and I did not want.

After much pleading, begging, whining, and fake tears, she had finally caved…once she had done a thorough background check on the school that we were begging to go to. It wasn't the one that had multiple tales of schoolyard brawls—we weren't that dumb and knew that Godzilla would come back from his vacation in the seventh ring of hell before she agreed to that—but one just outside the town's limits, not fifteen minutes away, and the school where Mom's best-friend's kid went…or something like that.

The plan was in motion, everything was perfect, and because mom was too busy with work she had left it up to us to send in the transfer papers. And because I had no idea how the hell we were supposed to do that because I sure as hell did not attend the school, I had left it up to Sora.

And Sora had fucked it up.

Or maybe I had fucked up, considering I was the one who had left it to him knowing full well how forgetful he could be.

"Sora," I groaned, burying my face in my hands. "Are you serious right now?"

"But it's really not a big deal!" he said, perking up. Oh yeah, no big deal. I was just being shoved into some public school of an asylum for my senior year, without knowing anyone. No big deal. "After first semester, I can transfer and we'll be together and everything! It'll be great!"

"It would be great," I muttered, glowering at his stupid grin. Stupid, stupid Sora. "If we could be together now,"

He pouted, "I'm sorry,"

"You're paying me back for this," I sighed as I made my way toward the front door, someone having honked a car horn a moment earlier. Snatching my bag from a nearby hook, I shoved my feet into my brand new sneakers. At least I would have something nice to stare at as I made my way through the halls. "You owe me,"

"Yeah, yeah, don't be a baby," Sora said, grinning as he followed me onto the front porch, bag and keys in hand.

"Douche,"

"Hey! That was low!" Sora squawked. I ignored him as I glanced at the blue Mercedes parked along the curb before our house. Leaning against said over-expensive sports car stood a tall, lithe teen looking like the epitamy of boredom as he stared lazily at the two of us. This must've been Riku, if his platinum hair and 'I-really-don't-want-to-be-here' stance was anything to go by. Unfortunately for him, he was the afore-mentioned son of Mom's best friend, and due to much badgering from his own mother, was to be my chauffer until I got used to the school.

Oh joy of joys.

Giving Sora a short goodbye in the form of a middle finger salute, I all but stomped over to the car, glowering at the guy who lifted an eyebrow slowly.

"Roxas, I'm guessing?" he asked as he pushed off the car and made it over to the driver's side. I wasted no time in ripping my door open and tossing my things in, following swiftly after.

"Yeah,"

"M'Riku," he said with a slight nod before he glanced out the window at Sora who still stood pouting on the front step. "Your brother goes to the Academy?"

I grunted in the affirmative.

"Why isn't he going to Bastion with you?"

"Because he's an ass," I grumbled. Riku snorted as he revved the engine, pulling away from the curb a moment later.

A/N: So, I've had this idea for a couple of months, I had it written it out but lost it, so decided to re-write it a few weeks ago. Then, right before posting this, I changed the end and some important details quite a YEAH.

Review, tell me what you guys think/if I should continue. This is my first time seriously writing in First person, not sure if I'm going to do it for the rest of the fic OTL If I do, it'll change characters a lot.
Anywho, thanks for reading! C: