Author's Note:
Well. Axel. You made it! Congratulations! :]
I kind of want to do some more of a Chickenwuss sort of thing—trading off in characters. So part of the next chapter may be from Axel's point of view. We'll have to see. I still am considering re-doing Chickenwuss, because Seifer is SO OUT OF CHARACTER omg.
++ I was serious you guys. I got 2 reviews for that Harry Potter fic, and it got over 100 views in the span of two days. Luckily, I hated how it was written, so I took it down. That is, I'm re-writing it. It's really hard to write for those characters, because so little is written about them in the first place.
I am pretty much working only on GIM, Full Moon, Chain of Events, and am thinking of doing another NaruSasu piece. Any other ideas, feel free to put them into a review.
Axel's first weeks at the precinct were manic.
Well, actually, scratch that—Axel's first weeks were manic for everyone else.
He was always coming home singed, or blackened, or missing an inch or so of hair. He hadn't even experienced his first real fire yet. It made Roxas a little nauseous to think about the lanky redhead strolling into a burning building.
Within the first two weeks of his new job training, Axel and Larxene broke up. No one but the offending parties were upset by this fact, however. Roxas could only handle hanging out with Hayner for so long, and it was getting harder to avoid Seifer.
Axel's side of the story was that Larxene had been lonely, because Axel had been too busy with surviving fire fighter training to pay good attention to her. Roxas thought that was bullshit, and that Larxene had been and always would be a player, and once she saw that Axel was too busy for her needs, she'd made it obvious that she had been sleeping around from the beginning.
Poor Axel really took it hard. For some reason Roxas, Hayner and Seifer couldn't begin to fathom, the pyromaniac had begun to really feel for the sadistic blonde bitch. He moped around for days on end, until Roxas was finally dumped in front of the redhead's house.
"He needs someone," Hayner had hissed by way of explanation, while shoving the short blonde out the passenger door. "At least you met her!"
So, here he was, standing on Axel's doorstep, noting how the redhead's motorcycle only had one helmet dangling off of the handlebars. It struck a chord in Roxas, for some reason, and he wondered what Axel had done with the other one.
No one answered the door, but instead of making Roxas feel self-assured, it made the younger boy all the more nervous. He turned the doorknob angrily, surprised when the door fell open against his touch. The smell of stale beer wafted through the hallway, causing Roxas to cough loudly.
"Axel?" He shut the door softly behind himself and slid off his shoes, treading lightly towards the living room. The coffee table was strewn with empty beer bottles and full six packs; Axel was thrown along the couch, arm flung over his eyes, beer bottle hanging from his limp fingers.
"Axel!" Irrationally, Roxas surged forward and shook his taller friend, who stirred and then shot up, his hair falling in wild disarray around his face.
"Rozzas?" he slurred, squinting.
"…. Axel, you douche!" Roxas scowled and huffed, awkwardly pressing a hand against his racing heartbeat.
"Whazza matter, Rozzy? Whaturyou doin' here?"
"Axel. How. Many. Drinks. Have. You. Had?" For some reason, Roxas had an endless supply of patience with Axel. He pointed to corresponding objects as he slowly enunciated the words in his sentence, keeping his face blank of emotion.
"A whole-lot." He slurred the two words together, pushing his bottle to his lips with the motion. Roxas picked up one of the opened bottles that still contained amber liquid off the table and took a swig, for his own sake.
"Is this all about Larxene?" he asked softly, sitting himself at Axel's feet.
"Thabitch."
The stoic silence was broken within seconds as the two broke into raucous laughter. Axel's was wet and drunk and messy, Roxas' was loud and free, and awkward with lack of practice. Luckily Axel was too drunk to comment on it.
"Did she tell you why she left?" Roxas asked, taking a heavier swig on his beer, because he hoped it would help his strange awkward feelings to fade away.
"I wasn' enough for her anymore." The redhead sighed, running a hand back through his hair. He managed to sit up and lean against the back of the couch, belching loudly in the process.
"Look…. Axel… she wasn't worth it."
"Wha' would you knowabouit Rozzy?" Axel growled, his words coming out a little clearer. Roxas raised his bottle again, but was startled to find it empty. Axel placed another bottle into the blonde's hands with a weak smile. Roxas' stomach churned, and he did exactly what he always had been told not to do when you feel sick – take a huge swig of beer.
"She… she was a player, Axel. You can't deny that. She didn't really care about you." He mumbled the words against the mouth of the bottle, hanging his head dejectedly. He rested his elbows on his knees, staring down at his shoe-bare feet. The smell of beer was warm and bitter and it only made him thirstier. He'd never been a real huge drinker, but he always loosened up with a few ounces of alcohol pumping in his veins, and one thing Roxas had to do was loosen up more often.
"…" Axel's mouth opened, closed, opened again, and was quickly filled with a splash of beer.
"You really cared for her, huh, Axel?"
The room was filled with an awkward silence as Roxas swirled his bottle by the neck, Axel tilting his head back and squinting his neon emerald eyes in a glare aimed at the ceiling. A car rolled by on the street outside, a muted whoosh of wind under the tires.
"I…" Axel's face turned red beneath his angular tattoos, "She was goo'in bed, mostly." Roxas snickered, and was eventually joined with raucous drunk chuckles by his taller companion. Somehow, Roxas had emptied his second bottle of beer and was moving on to his third, idly pulling at loose threads along the waistband of his jeans. There was an aroma wafting around the room under the strong scent of beer, and it was beginning to bother the slightly tipsy blonde.
"You'll find someone be'er, Axel." Roxas grumbled, a little surprised when his words slid together so easily. "If you don' die ina fire furs."
"Rozzas, your drunk." Axel pointed out, sitting up a little straighter and placing his bottle on the coffee table.
"Not as badly as you," Roxas managed to say, fighting hard not to slur. The blonde leaned forward unto his knees, leaning slightly towards Axel. Within moments, that underlying smell grew stronger. It was a tantalizing mix of spice, Axe, and smoke – but the kind of smoke that comes from a blown-out match, heady and almost sweet. It was overwhelming within a few moments, and yet Roxas could have breathed the ambrosia-esque smell every day, every minute and been quite content. Or maybe that was the three and a half bottles of beer talking.
"Axel… yoosmell amaa-aa-zee-ng," he slurred, drawing out the words as he pushed his bottle down against the wooden tabletop. Axel lifted an arm and stuck his nose into an armpit, inhaling deeply before shrugging.
"Ahdunno man, Ah jus' smell li' me." He giggled, falling forward against Roxas in the process. The two collapsed back into the other armrest, Roxas pinned beneath Axel's longer, stretched weight. They continued to laugh, Axel's head buried in the couch by Roxas' left ear, Roxas' head thrown back as his stomach convulsed painfully.
"Stoppit, Axel. My… stomach… ooowww." Roxas' laughter finally subsided into a subdued moan of pain, until the room was silent once more. The smell of Axel was getting intoxicating, the blonde turning his head to bury his nose in the red hair that was splayed out from his left shoulder. A warm pressure began to press at the nape of Roxas' neck, followed by a wet sensation, which the boy quickly recognized.
Mouth. Warm. Wet… Tongue… Axel.
He moaned softly, angling himself and sighing as the ministrations moved up to beneath his ear, the redhead's tongue making slow, small circles behind the blonde's earlobe.
The two moved to arrange Axel's gangly proportions, Roxas' hands rapidly moving up and under the redhead's shirt, his fingers splayed against a smooth stomach, the outlines of a forming six-pack faintly palpable.
"They're… workin'you…. Ah-" His words broke off into a broken gasp as he felt hips grind down against his own. Lights began to flicker behind his eyelids, and the boy immediately arched upwards, his hands pulling the redhead down against him. They were moving quickly—fluttery motion of fingertips across red-hot and cool-blue skin, hips pressing warmly and wholly against each other, mouths working voraciously against pulsing arteries and prominent collarbones. Axel's skin tasted nearly as good as it smelled, and millions of images fluttered through Roxas' head before, suddenly, the world went blank, just after a hissed,
"Roxas--!"
"My… fuckin' head." Roxas sat up slowly, clutching to his blonde spikes as if to keep his head from rolling off of its sturdy neck-perch. The room spun nauseatingly, but he was able to make out a coffee table littered with empty amber bottles, and his first thought was,
Where the hell am I?
It took only a second to realize that he wasn't alone; he was lying on the floor next to the couch, and someone was on the couch. Another second later and he found that he was shirtless. Luckily for Roxas, he'd gotten a good education – outside of the classroom.
"Oh shit!"
First, he had to find his shirt. Somehow, the damned thing had gotten halfway across the room, and being dizzier than a tilt-o-whirl on speed made it nearly impossible to get to, let alone put on. He wasn't even going to try and tie his shoes. The door was easy to master, but getting home was going to be something else entirely.
At first, he pulled his phone from his pants pocket, but then, considering how he must look, and how drunk he was, he realized that he really didn't want to have to explain everything to Hayner. So he loped, in a very hung-over fashion, to the bus stop, sat his ass down firmly on the bench, and waited. For the first few moments, he had to keep putting his arms out in an effort to keep his balance. He couldn't remember the last time he'd been this badly wasted, let alone in public.
The neighborhood itself was deserted, and Roxas hadn't been able to stop the numbers on his watch from dancing in a nauseating circle, but judging by the amount of light that was burning his retinas, he guessed it was about six in the evening.
When his cheap-beer induced mental haze waned every couple of minutes, his first thought was, why hadn't Hayner shown up to get him? He supposed he was happy that his friend hadn't come by and found him, drunk and shirtless in Axel's living room. … On Axel's couch … With Axel.
To be honest, he actually couldn't really remember much that happened past … uhm… the two collapsing on each other in laughter. He remembered how awful he sounded when he laughed. God, that must have been attractive. Not that he cared whether or not Axel found him attractive, but come on; it must have sounded so nerdy. But they had been drunk, so it really didn't matter what they did or said. Nothing happened, anyway. Axel had just… Axel … Axel had… and Roxas had… Well, Roxas hadn't done anything! He'd just lain there. He'd writhed underneath that mouth… those warm fingers and those fluid hips…
The hissing sound of the bus door opening jolted Roxas back to the present, slightly hot and bothered. Rubbing one hand along his nape, the young man uneasily walked up the steps and deposited the fare, falling ungracefully into the first available seat. Normally, Roxas did all he could to keep a low profile; to appear like your average citizen-- to not stand out. Stumbling drunkenly up the bus steps and falling dizzily into a seat was not going to help that. But he'd rather soil his blasé persona with a hung-over rebellious teenager façade, than to be known as…
With a tired, angry sigh, Roxas shoved his hands deep into his pockets. He pulled from his pocket the large blue marble, glimmering in the heavy golden light of the setting sun.
Axel was his friend. Axel was absentminded, a bit of a jerk, and immature, but he was Roxas' friend. He couldn't – no, he wouldn't – let something this stupid ruin what they had going. Besides, the redhead wouldn't be able to survive without Roxas to keep him grounded. At least… that's what he told himself.
Ending Notes:
I am serious you guys. I don't put these up here for my own use. Even if you HATE a story, let me know. I put up polls for your use--- I want to write what YOU WANT TO READ! I get such a high out of a review, good or bad. I seriously won't upload anything new if I don't get any reviews. I would most likely finish any chapter fics… but that's just because I hate leaving things half-assed.