Disclaimer: Sadly, I do not own any of these characters.

Summary: AU. Axel/Roxas. Minus 13, an internet forum, and Roxas has been accepted to become part of The Organization, the forums moderators and creators, as a new moderator. Is Roxas prepared for this responsibility? That, however, is only half of this story…

Beta: impish-nymph. Who is absolutely amazing and a great, great, great help. Oh and encourages me far, far too much. :D I cannot thank her enough.

Notes: OKAY. This is a great time to post this, since I beat Kingdom Hearts II today. (Go me!) Anyway. This fic can be blamed on a guy named Teddykins. So if you think it sucks or I'm on crack, go throw stones at him. :P I wanted to write my very own Axel/Roxas fic but I had no plot ideas. So, I asked Teddykins for a prompt. Well, his prompt kinda went slightly out of control and before I knew it, I had an Epic Fic Idea. It was almost distressing but it had to be written. :3 Be gentle…

Also, some of this story had to be edited so it could be posted on this site. Mainly links and email addresses. If you would prefer to read the unaltered version, you can find it posted at fullrefund on LiveJournal.

---

"Do you like it, Roxas?"

Roxas stares blankly at the box in front of him for a long moment, not certain if he is seeing what he hopes he is but he hopes anyway, just in case. With a brief glance at his mother, he reaches out, hand hovering over it for a second before lowering on top of it. He runs his fingers over the package, searching it idly before working his fingers into the grooves and opening it carefully. Inside is a sleek, black laptop. Exactly what he wanted and had been hoping for. Roxas exhales with a grin, removing the laptop from the packaging and pushing the box aside. It is not too heavy, light enough that he can take it around without developing any unwanted aches in his shoulder.

"Yes," Roxas murmurs, stroking the cool surface of the laptop, fingers pausing on the button that releases the lid to open it. "Thank you."

His mother pats his head, ruffling his hair as she stands and chuckles lightly when he attempts to duck away from the gesture. "Don't make me regret buying that and setting up an Internet service. Be sensible."

Roxas nods. "I know." He looks up at his mom with smile but says seriously, "I won't go into any dodgy chat rooms where the pedophiles are lurking."

"Keep it that way, Roxas."

She smiles once more, picking up the discarded packaging that was pushed aside and leaves the room, closing the door with a soft click behind her. Roxas waits a moment, listening as her footsteps gradually become harder to hear, muffled by the carpet lining the floor.

When he's certain she will not be back, he rushes pushes the release button and lifts the lid, quickly scanning the keyboard for the ON switch. His fingers move to grab the supplied cords as the lights turn on, quickly untangling and plugging them in before the low battery life runs out. He listens to the soft hum of the laptop booting up, the subtle noises it produces as the screen flashes and flickers. Numbers scatter over the screen, disappearing too fast for him to read and then, finally, the welcome screen appears and a familiar tune fills the room.

Please pick a name for your computer. (i.e kitchen computer): Twilight

Twilight. The name of his new town and new life. Roxas taps his fingers restlessly on the keyboard, gnawing on his bottom lip as he waits for the laptop to finish loading so he can complete the set up and access the Internet.

It's been almost a month since he last had any Internet access. The town has no public Internet ports or WiFi - nothing. Not even the library has public Internet access - just some crap Intranet that only accesses the town's private server and is useless for what Roxas wants. Not to mention it's only available to businesses and he shouldn't even be touching the special Intranet.

Roxas frowns at the laptop, patience beginning the wear thin – why do new computers always take so long? He almost groans when a pop up says he needs to reboot the computer before he will be able to use the Internet. Breathing through his clenched teeth, he complies and waits a significantly shorter amount of time for the welcome page to appear again. It is much faster from there and he promptly opens a browser window, entering the URL to check his email so he can find out how overwhelmingly full his inbox will be.

324 Unread Emails. 65 spam emails.

Roxas groans softly as his eyes flick over the names but there is also a rush, an excitement and he feels connected again, finally. It makes him feel giddy and he quickly deletes all the spam mail, not even glancing at the subjects - he knows they will all be about penises and growth and female ejaculation. Nothing interesting. (Roxas actually opened one when he was using a library computer and was horrified by the rapid influx of images that assaulted his eyes and desktop screen. He was saved from the sight of a female writhing with a banana by the computer screen flickering and then going black and silent. After being banned from the library for two weeks and having to pay for the virus removal, he stopped opening spam mail.)

An email catches his eye and he freezes, mouth going dry and his palms begin to sweat. He hits at the touchpad and gets frustrated when the mouse flicks out of sight. He slides his finger over the touchpad in hope that he'll find the cursor on the screen again. Stupid touchpad. The sensitivity needs to be adjusted.

Finally, after what seems like minutes, he spots the flicker of the arrow and quickly zooms it across the screen to select the email he had been eyeing. It opens and he sighs in relief, before tensing again as he scans the words that show up.

-

From: Organization. Organization(at)minus13(dot)com

To: SeaSalt. Trinketkeyblades(at)gmail(dot)com

Subject: Re: Moderator Application.

Thank you for taking the time to fill out our moderator application. We are pleased to inform you that you have been accepted. Please send a confirmation email as soon as possible and we will send you the necessary information that you will require.

Regards,

TheBrainGame.

Organization.

-

A wide grin slowly spreads over his face and he throws himself back on his bed. The laptop almost topples to the floor but Roxas reacts, scrambling back upright and grabs it. Shaking his head, feeling somewhat foolish, he slides it away from the edge of his bed, out of harms way.

Lying back down, he stares blankly at his ceiling - he was accepted. Roxas opens and closes his mouth, his hand coming up to cover his eyes as he lets the realization settle in and he tries to handle the shock.

On a whim he had filled out the moderator form but he hadn't expected or anticipated that he would be considered – let alone accepted for the position. Minus 13 was his most frequented forum and the Organization were known for their seclusion, their elitism. They had not accepted a new moderator for almost two years and then suddenly one day when Roxas had logged on there was an announcement as a sticky post on the general board. There had been a recent upsurge of problems but as a watcher who tended to ignore the trouble, he thought the Organization would handle it but apparently they needed assistance and were willing to stoop low enough to offer a position to a mere watcher. Interested and figuring he was online enough, he decided to give it a shot since there was no harm in trying and he could only be rejected, nothing personal about it.

The Internet was and still is his not so secret love, something he became obsessed with when his parents were constantly arguing and he needed something to take his mind off them bickering over useless furniture and dusky old trinket keyblades that nobody cared about. There was always net access somewhere, at school, at the library, at the shopping center, at the post office - everywhere that wasn't at home and he could just lose himself in the cyber world. It was perfectly fine and he kept his sanity. He wouldn't become one of those adults who end up spending hundreds of dollars getting therapy for negative emotional instability because of a messy divorce he was forced to witness as an innocent teenager.

Then his mother informed him they were moving to another country, from Toronto to some nobody place in America, as far away from his father as she could take him and they would start over. Roxas could only blink and nod, wondering if they had a decent Internet connection there.

Applying for a moderator position was just something he did a few days before his mother packed them up and they left, before he even knew that the situation with his parents were so extreme and the only resolution that could be found was divorce. He had actually forgotten all about it but here it was – he was going to be a part of Minus 13's Organization. One of the people the watchers look up to for support, to secretly loath and sometimes send hate filled private messages to before mysteriously disappearing from the site. Or more likely were just being banned.

Roxas grins and promptly sits back up, yanking the laptop towards him and types out a quick reply.

-

From: SeaSalt. Trinketkeyblades(at)gmail(dot)com

To: Organization. Organization(at)minus13(dot)com

Subject: Re: Moderator Application.

TheBrainGame,

Sorry about the delay in reply. Real life got busy all of a sudden and I had no Internet access. I'm still interested in being a moderator. I hope that in my delay the position hasn't been filled already.

SeaSalt.

-

He scans the reply, chewing at his lip again – should the email be longer? Be more polite? Should he be more formal and less relaxed in his wording? Roxas frowns and shakes his head, clicking on send before he changes his mind. The Organization are real people and they run the forum for their own enjoyment, they don't get paid and he won't be getting paid either. There should be no issue with him being relaxed and not uptight.

Closing his inbox, leaving the other 323 emails to pursue later, he opens up Minus 13's web page and blinks at the screen when it loads. The page is a bit more sluggish than he is accustomed to and takes far longer for the images and posts to load. It's either the internet speed in this area, which he could tell just from checking his email, is a lot slower than what he was used to, or the forum has more traffic and the site is suffering under the pressure.

Roxas clicks through a few posts when it finally accessible, skimming over new threads that sound interesting and looking for anything important or any familiar names. He sighs. There is a lot and it will take him hours to catch up on everything. Plus his private messages were showing that he has quite a few unread ones and they would need to be taken care of as well. Never again will he allow himself to go so long without being able to get online. The resulting slog of emails and messages and posts are overwhelming and he hasn't even started yet.

"Roxas?"

"Come in," he calls, closing the lid of the laptop with a sigh. He can't resist leveling a muted glower at his mother when she enter his room with a too bright smile and a plate of some type of snack. Probably those blueberry muffins that she loves but he thinks are gross.

"I know you are busy but I thought you could do with a snack. You've been sitting in front of that thing for hours already," she says kindly, placing the plate next to him on the bed.

Roxas blinks, scratching his head as he glances at his watch – she's right. He has been sitting there for at least three hours. He stretches. Rolling his neck side to side, Roxas shuffles to the edge of the bed and gives his mom a one arm hug.

"Thanks," Roxas mutters. "I didn't even notice the time – did I miss dinner?" He frowns as he sits back, nudging at the plate away with his knee and hopes his mother doesn't notice.

"Mhm but there are leftovers. I wanted to just let you catch up. Since you had been mostly patient with the move," she teases. Her cheeks suddenly begin to tint red and she laughs awkwardly, her hand coming up to rest at the base of her throat. "I'll leave you to it then. Try not to stay up too late though, okay? You do have school in the morning and I'm not letting this-" she gestures at the laptop with her other hand, "-interfere with your education. It has been disrupted enough already."

Roxas nods. "Okay, I won't. And mom?"

She pauses at the door, her hand resting on the handle as she looks back at him. "Yes?"

"Don't worry about all this – the move. It's fine. And thank you, you know, for the laptop and understanding." He grins almost sheepishly, looking away from her face as it softens and relaxes.

"Good night, Roxas."

"Night mom."

He watches as the door closes behind her for the second time that day and he sighs, rubbing his eyes with the heel of his palms. There are times when his mother really worries him but she does seem happier here, even if he sometimes catches her staring into space and trailing off into a world all of her own.

The plate sits innocently next to him and he wrinkles his nose as he leans forward to poke at the muffins, grimacing as his finger dips into one of the berries – should it actually be that soft and squishy? Probably not. It doesn't matter and he picks the plate up, wiping his finger on the surface before opening his bedroom window carefully. He whistles as he drops the muffins to the ground. The dog will get a late snack. It wasn't the first it had been lucky enough to receive. Those muffins just keep coming and by the looks of it would continue to so.

Once the window is closed again, he changes into his pajamas, deciding he'd rather have a shower in the morning and just get back to feeding his deprived internet addiction. It is going to take time and effort to return to feeling like he has everything under control, that he isn't missing anything or owing any emails or replies. The sooner he starts, the quicker he'll be caught up and won't feel the compulsive urge to hijack the any computers or service lines that he really shouldn't.

It had actually been close, the hijacking, but he had come to his senses before he could actually set those idle thoughts into active motions. The things you would do for an addiction. Roxas snorts as he reopens his email, at least he isn't at the stage where he's online for twenty three hours of each day – that's bordering on obsessive and pathetic.

It started as a place to escape from his home but now it is deeply ingrained into him, he has friends, acquaintances, contacts, journals and he isn't in the position just to back off and cut it out of his life. Sure, he vanished for almost a month but that wasn't his doing and that was easily explained but he can't just leave completely.

He preferred to spend his time talking to people online rather than the ones he saw every day at school. Not that he is ever going to see his old friends again and the new ones he had made were okay but that is hardly the point. It is just difficult to talk to them easily, for the conversation to flow naturally and there were always awkward pauses on his part, never knowing what to say or if what he did say was okay. Perhaps he could convince them to use a journaling site and they could talk. Roxas rolls his eyes at the thought. That guy Hayner wasn't the type to sit at a desk and spend his time typing away when he could be outdoors and practice his fighting. Maybe Pence, though. He isn't so sure about Olette. Best not to think about that, he decides.

324 Unread Emails. 0 spam emails.

Roxas blinks rapidly, staring blankly at his screen and shakes his head in disbelief. Then he laughs. Really, with twelve members, it shouldn't be such a surprise that there is a reply already. No doubt they all have access to the site's email.

-

From: Organization. Organization(at)minus13(dot)com

To: SeaSalt. Trinketkeyblades(at)gmail(dot)com

Subject: Re: Moderator Application.

Yo, SeaSalt.

Where you been? Never mind that. About time you checked in. I had to convince some of the others that you were still good for the job – putting myself out on the line for ya. You can thank me another time.

I've added an attachment to this email. Read it and memorize it, got it? The site will accept you the next time you log in. Don't mess us over or we'll send a virus your way. Trust me; we got a few things up our data sleeves and you don't want that.

Your Savior,

HipsDontLie.

Organization.

-

Roxas gapes at the email, rereading it a few times before scowling and angrily hitting the touchpad, opening a reply email. HipsDontLie. Why HipsDontLie? It could have been any one of the twelve members, but HipsDontLie is the one to reply to him.

Roxas doesn't know how he even made it into the Organization; he is openly rude to new forum members, the ones who don't know that HipsDontLie is like that with all members, and he's previously been some kind of troublemaker on a now closed down forum. At least the other members try to hide their snide and condescending remarks between polite words. It's only after you've been on the site for long enough that you begin to recognize the traits the moderators use to mock and laugh at members. HipsDontLie, and one or two others, just never bother to hide it.

Roxas hesitates, wondering if he really wants to be a part of that, be considered truly one of them. The words he had prepared to use in reply to HipsDontLie die before his fingers even touch the keys and he closes the browser completely. It is best to just finish it all in the morning, when he has time to think it over properly. Yes, he wants to join. Yes, he wants to have more power and more control but he doesn't want to become one of those people who look down on the rest.

Grumbling, he shuts down the laptop and places it on his desk, cursing when he almost trips over a cord and pulls the laptop onto the floor.

"Stupid cords," he mutters as he switches off the light and climbs into bed, briefly arguing with the sheets and yanking them into submission around his shoulders. He thinks about the email before he eventually drifts off to sleep.

---

Everything is done in rush when he suddenly jerks awake, having gone to bed without setting his alarm. Roxas scrambles around his room, stubbing his toes on the corner of his desk, and swears loudly. He tries to pacify his mother when she lectures him from the kitchen as he stumbles down stairs, bleary eyed and cursing under his breath. He apologizes, promising it won't happen again.

There is no time for breakfast, no time for that shower he had wanted to take and certainly no time to check his email again. Calling a quick farewell, he runs out the front door and down the street, hoping that his bus will still be there waiting for him but he is barely two minutes late for it. If he looks hard enough, he thinks he can see it turning the corner at the end of the street, vanishing from sight only a few seconds later.

In a fit of annoyance and immaturity, he throws his bag onto the ground and kicks it, hard. It just so happens to hit the tires of a passing bike, sending the bike and the rider flying into the curb in front of him. Roxas stares in shock, his mind completely and utterly void of rational thoughts. He simply gapes at the mess of limbs jerking about and a bike wheel spinning crazily, wobbling as if it was on the verge of falling off. His school bag is wrapped around the body's legs, somehow locking a leg with the bike pedal and no matter how much the person kicks his foot it remains lodged.

"Yo, would you help a guy out?" calls the person.

"…Er."

Stumbling forward, Roxas falls to his knees, avoiding looking directly at the person and just focuses on trying to remove his bag strap from the person – the guy's – leg. Somehow it had become wedged and tangled when the bike slid along the ground. He grunts, yanking at it roughly and he receives a sharp and very unexpected smack to the side of his head for his effort.

"My leg is attached to that, you know."

Roxas scowls, ready to snap back but he makes the mistake of looking at the guy and is faced with a grinning tattooed weirdo.

"…Uh. Just shut up a bit. The strap comes off, I think." He finally mumbles, tearing his gaze away. He fumbles for the clasp and releases the strap as well as the guy's leg. "Sorry about that."

"It happens all the time, kid. Honest. Bags come flying at me so often that I'm used to it." The guy grins even wider as he removes his helmet and runs his fingers through his hair. "Although, that's really just my mom. She likes to throw me out every so often. Mother-son bonding and all that. I'm Axel; try not to forget, yeah? You owe me a meal or something."

All Roxas can do is stare up at the guy and not think. Thinking means effort, and effort means trying to understand everything this stranger was saying. The stranger who only moments before had been knocked over by Roxas's flying bag. Practically his entire life story and –

"—I owe you a meal? Hey, forget that. Look, I'm sorry, okay?" he grumbles, crossing his arms and glaring up at the red head. "But I can't go wasting my money feeding you. Can't you just accept my apology and we can forget this ever happened?"

Axel lifts his arm up, finger pointing to the side of his head and he makes a humming noise, as if he is in a deep train of thought. Roxas fidgets, glances at his watch and suppresses a groan. He is very late and there is no way he will get to school before his first class starts. It is just too far.

"Nah, sorry kid but an apology is no good." Axel moves over to his bike, nudging the wheel with his shoe and Roxas winces as it moves the wrong way, side to side. "You broke my bike. An apology is just not going to satisfy, I'm afraid."

Feeling a bit like a fish, Roxas snaps his mouth closed and reattaches his bag strap, then shrugs it onto his shoulders. "Whatever. I don't think so. I offered an apology and you didn't want it."

Waving a hand dismissively, Roxas turns away from Axel and his broken bike, and begins to walk in the direction of his school even though on foot it takes a solid hour. It would be quicker to just go home and ask his mom for a lift, but he would have to walk back towards Axel the bike guy to get home and he didn't want to do that.

Today just wasn't agreeing with him. Yesterday, everything felt like it was finally going to return to normal, he could relax online and not have to worry about anything. He would get to learn the rules of being an Organization member and he'd feel like he was contributing something important.

With how his luck was going this morning, he would sign into his email and find a reply saying that they had changed their mind. That they didn't think he would do the job satisfactorily and they had found someone better suited. Roxas shakes his head, hoping that with his almost violent head movement, he succeeds in shaking those thoughts out of his mind permanently and they will never stray towards him again. Positive thinking. Yes, he could do that.

"Yo, wait up!"

Or perhaps not.

Silent treatment always works, he tells himself as he starts to walk faster, pretending that he can't hear the sound of swearing and the scrape of metal on the road. Really, he had seen his mom do it to his dad long before they called their marriage over and it always worked for her, that was until the very end and dad stopped caring if she talked or not.

"Hey, kid. I'm talking to you and it is polite to talk back," Axel grunts, suddenly by his side and Roxas gives him a wide eye look before groaning loudly.

"Where is your bike?"

"Left it," Axel replies too cheerfully, falling in step with him and shoving his hands into his pockets. "It was old anyway. Good excuse to get another. You almost did me a favor."

"Great, so there won't be any need for a free meal, then," Roxas mutters sourly, kicking at a bottle into the gutter.

"Did I say that? I don't remember saying that. Nope, you still owe me and I won't let you back out of it."

Roxas has never been violent, in fact he's mostly a very calm natured person but right then he is wishing he had kicked the bag just a little harder. Maybe Axel would have lost a few teeth and wouldn't be able to talk. Smirking, Roxas glances at the red hair out of the corner of his eye and chuckles softly.

"Let me guess, you're going to follow me around until I give in, right?"

Axel grins, walks ahead of him and turns to face Roxas while continuing to walk as he speaks. "Pretty much. You're fairly sharp for a shortie."

"Uh huh." Roxas rolls his eyes and sighs, glancing at his watch again. "Fine. How about breakfast? I missed mine and the bus for school. Might as well feed you and get you off my case while the day is still young."

"Ahh that is what I like to hear, kid." Axel stops walking and Roxas is momentarily struck with fear that this gangly stranger is going to try to hug him. But he doesn't and Roxas attempts to relax. "My choice, your shout and we're even. Sound good?"

"Oh yes. Absolutely fabulous. Honest."

Rolling his eyes some more, Roxas follows Axel around a corner and he watches as food place after food place appear and Axel ignores each and every one of them. He arches a brow but says nothing.

Later, after he has shaken the red head off, he is going to regret not turning up to school, even if late. It was a first; not showing up at all and he didn't even know how this school handled matters. For all he knew they would ring up his mom to check up on him. That could only lead to bad things and a curt talk with his mother later on. One that he never really wants to have but he has made his choice and he'll have to live with the consequences. Hopefully it won't.

There is another smack to the side of his head and he resists the urge to growl and bite the offending hand. Instead he glares at Axel and rubs the abused spot.

"What?" Roxas grumbles. Axel needs serious people skills lessons, he decides.

"Cheer up, kid. We're here."

"How am I'm supposed to cheer up? I'm buying a stranger food. For all I know you are some creepy stalker or junkie. I know! How about I give you some money and you can go jack up or something?"

Axel snorts and continues walking ahead of him, towards some run down restaurant that Roxas has never been to before. Actually, he doesn't think he has even heard of it before.

"I'll pass. I'm terrified of needles and rather go get burnt in a fire or something along those lines." Axel grins at him over his shoulder and Roxas trips up the gutter.

"More of your life story? Man, I'll know everything about you by the end of breakfast." Roxas picks himself up, dusting his pants and avoids Axel eyes, who has caught the fall and is smirking down at him. "Shut up."

To make him feel even worse, Axel holds open the door and gestures for him to enter first, giving a slight bow when Roxas shuffles past. The entire situation is absurd and Roxas wants to go and hide in a garbage can or in the toilets. Anywhere that isn't where Axel and his weird mannerisms are. Right now he could be learning mathematics or getting a library pass or anything that isn't being right here. Roxas twitches.

"Sit," Axel commands, pushing down on his shoulder. Roxas shrugs him off but sits, crosses his arms on the table and slumps forward, tempted to burying his face in his arms. He groans loudly when Axel spins his chair around and straddles it.

"Figures that you wouldn't sit like a normal person," Roxas mutters and gives into temptation, going one step further and banging his head on the table.

"Aww, don't be like that, kid. You should indulge in cheap thrills every now and then. It'll get rid of that stick up your ass."

Roxas glances up at him and Axel winks.

"I don't think I like you," he states firmly and closes his eyes. No, really, he definitely does not like him.

For some reason what he said makes Axel laugh, loudly and raucously, and Roxas begins to worry that the waitress will come over and tell them to be quiet or leave. The waitress does head towards their table and Roxas hastily reaches over, slapping Axel around the face. "Shut up," he hisses, gesturing towards the waitress.

Axel blinks, rubbing his cheek and stares at Roxas as if he has four heads and three noses. "That hurt."

"It was suppose to and I'll do it again if I have to," Roxas retorts and then looks up at the waitress, giving her a pained smile. It probably looked more like a grimace, really but he didn't have a mirror so he couldn't check.Axel opens his mouth but Roxas kicks him under the table before anything can come out.

"Hello," Roxas says politely to the waitress, ignoring the sounds of pained moaning coming from the other side of the table. "Can we get two coffees and whatever your basic –"

"I want a breakfast with the lot," Axel cuts in, talking straight over him.

"…What?"

"You just kicked me, slapped me and you broke my bike." Axel reminds him, crossing his arms over his chest and smirks. "I want the works. I deserve everything, kid."

"But…" Roxas feels himself gaping again, quickly becoming flustered and he can feel the waitress looking at him questioningly, waiting for him. Throwing his hands in the air, he gives in and bangs his head on the table for the second time in less than ten minutes. "Fine. Fine – one breakfast with the lot and one basic breakfast."

"Coming right up," she says chirpily, patting Roxas on the head and he can't bring enough to be offended or annoyed by the touch. Of course Axel wants the lot. Why on earth would someone as thin as him want a small, basic meal? Clearly, Roxas has been under the wrong impression all his life.

"You know, it is polite to introduce yourself when you are buying someone a meal," Axel comments and Roxas feels something hit his head. Looking up, his chin resting on the table, he sees that Axel is bit by bit tearing up a napkin and rolling them into tiny balls. Flicking them in his direction. Roxas closes his eyes, feeling one bounce off his nose and he takes a deep breath, telling himself to ignore the idiot.

"Probably but this meal is nothing but an obligatory apology. Polite conversation or chitchat isn't necessary. Neither are names. You could still be a stalker."

"You need to lighten up. You're far too serious." Axel leans forward, his thumb rubbing between Roxas's eyebrows, above his nose. Roxas frowns, reaching up to swat his hand away. "You're already getting wrinkles. What are you – twelve?"

"I'm seventeen, thank you very much," Roxas snaps, sitting up and pushing his chair back slightly, not willing to risk Axel touching him again. Doesn't he know anything about personal space and that you aren't supposed to invade it unless you are allowed to?

"Now, was that so hard?" Axel grins, that smug smile returning. "I just need a name now and I'll feel a bit more satisfied. Not a life story but a start."

Roxas wonders if he'll spend the entire time with Axel either gaping, glaring or frowning. The three were becoming very common reactions and it wouldn't surprise him if he was to wake up tomorrow with wrinkles. Struggling to think of a suitable retort, one that would shut the red head up for at least five minutes, he is saved by the arrival of breakfast and he can't help but raise both eyebrows when he sees how much is on Axel's plate.

"I refuse to do kitchen cleaning if that costs too much, Axel." His plate looks almost bare in comparison and he idly wonders as he picks at his piece of toast if maybe he should have gotten a breakfast with the lot as well. Probably.

Axel shrugs and starts eating, not bothering to be polite about it and Roxas wrinkles his nose before he finally tears his gaze away. Never had he ever seen anyone eat a sausage in such a way. Roxas stabs at his watery egg and glowers, his appetite evaporating rapidly. Maybe he will be free in ten minutes time and he could – shit. What was he supposed to do for the next five hours? It wasn't like he could go home and sit in front of his laptop. His mom would still be there since she was working from home temporarily and he knew that going back there would not be the most intelligent thing to do. There were no other places he could go for Internet access.

"Why so glum, kid? Looks like someone kicked your dog or something."

"Just eat your food," Roxas snaps, dropping his fork onto the plate with a loud clatter. He drums his fingers on the table, restless thoughts racing as he tries to think of something, anything, but he comes up with nothing. No solution. There was no way he could climb through his bedroom window. His room was above the kitchen and his mom would see him straight away if he tried. There was also the risk that she would go into his room or hear him in there.

"Oy, earth to bike murdering boy. You with me or not?"

"Roxas," he mutters distractedly.

"What?"

Roxas glances at him, waving his hands in front of his chest. "My name. It's Roxas. Not 'bike murdering boy'."

Axel grins so widely that it alarms Roxas and he forgets his current dilemma, concerned that Axel's face might split in two. "Well, it is a pleasure to meet you, Roxas. As you know, I'm Axel and you broke my bike."

Roxas can only groan and drop his face to the table once more.

However, this time, instead of actually hitting the table, he hits his full plate of food and can feel the watery egg and mashed potatoes sticking to his skin. The sound of Axel laughing and something that sounds suspiciously like a chair scraping across the floor, followed by a loud bang and an exclamation of pain mixed with choked giggles, fills his ears.

Some days you just weren't meant to get up in the morning and Roxas decides that he is going to try to remember that.

---

Reviews are highly appreciated!