They practice eloping one day.

Axel pulls up his beat up '97 Chevy truck, the one that has real character - you know the one. It has fake, slightly dirty fur draped haphazardly over the seats and the little hula girl taped to the dashboard, swinging her skirts and playing her ukulele. One of the red and blue dice on the rear view mirror is missing and the string that held it is wrapped around the other, tied loosely; it swings back and forth, lonely, whenever the truck shudders over the tiniest little pothole.

It's fifteen past twelve when Roxas makes it out of the house, and Axel tries not to wince when he imagines the horrible screeching sound that the door always makes- like the yell of a child throwing a temper tantrum because he can't have extra ice cream. Oh, how cute Roxas used to be, he thinks, right before the other boy throws his bag into the bed and it makes a loud 'thump' that makes him cringe. He's guessing the blond threw some rocks in there to weigh the flimsy sports bag down. No one ever said Roxas didn't pack light.

He can hear the boy pulling on the handle, trying to get the door open; after two minutes of aggravation, he looks annoyed and lifts his baby blues to meet Axel's; Axel just laughs and makes a gesture that says 'come around'. His door opens quietly when Roxas jerks open the handle and he clambers in, managing to elbow Axel in the face and bruise his thigh at the same time.

Once seated comfortably, Roxas fiddles with the radio - which he knows doesn't work - and Axel pulls as silently as he can off the curb, in a truck that can't even manage to stand still when it's shut off.

They roll over the pot holes as best they can and at the next 7-eleven they stop and grab some junk food and cigarettes. They leave with everything but the cigarettes because the girl at the till refused Axel's ID, saying it looked fake, anyway - the tattoos were so obviously photo-shopped in.

"Bitch." Axel grumbles, just loud enough for her to hear, and they're promptly escorted off the premises by a tired looking security guard who sympathizes with them; the redhead manages to get two cigarettes off of him, which can last him until the next town.

In the truck, halfway out on highway 21, Roxas closes his eyes and relaxes into what looks like sleep; Axel tries to remember any other time where Roxas looked half as peaceful as he does at that moment, when he can fool himself into believing that they're actually going to get out.

Axel lights a cigarette and opens the window to let the smoke out, trying to estimate the time it will take to get across the border.

---

Roxas comes to from dozing to the snap of the seatbelt and the feel of one arm slipping underneath his knees and the other sliding under his neck. The action is overly gentle and he wonders why Axel doesn't show him this side very often.

He pretends to be asleep throughout the whole thing, head lolling and world tilting as he focuses on keeping his breathing even and his body relaxed. This is what Axel needs, he thinks. To take care of me. Then his head bangs against a door jamb once and he tenses, groaning over the sounds of Axel saying "Oh shit, fuck, sorry Roxas. Jesus."

The next few moments are a little awkward but fixed easily when Roxas slides out of Axel's grip; Axel's hands trace him like water as he moves and one hand passes over the swell of his ass. He chooses to ignore the gesture and instead looks around the room, wondering if this is what freedom is - a one bedroom motel with mouldy ceilings and an affinity for the tacky.

"How much?" is all Roxas asks, because he's not picky about his freedom; he wouldn't even mind sleeping outside in the truck because he wouldn't be able to sleep in the insanely expensive hotel rooms, anyway.

"Ten bucks and a blow job." Axel laughs at the look on Roxas' face when he whips around, and fixes the look with a sly smile and different words. "No, just eighty."

Roxas nods at the price - it's acceptable, for today - and looks around at freedom one more time before going outside to grab his and Axel's bags.

-----------------

Lunch spent at a McDonald's is another form of freedom. Axel finds that he can order a milkshake here and share it with Roxas; any other time and the boy would look at him, wondering how crazy he had gone in the two minutes it took for him to order. Maybe it's because of the graceful anonymity this town provides, the lack of knowledge of who they are and what they stand for. Either way, Axel is thankful for it.

Roxas slurps on the milkshake - which was a new flavour that had salt in it and was tinted a blue-ish color- and his face is overcome with surprise. Axel thinks, uh oh.

"This is good." The blond says simply, licking his lips. Axel follows his eyes, which stare down almost emotionlessly into the blue and white cup.

"Can I try?" The redhead asks, licking his own lips once the boy looks up, and he wordlessly hands it over; Axel takes a big sip that leaves him gasping for breath.

Once he hands over the shake, that's that - Axel doesn't get another sip and when they leave, Roxas is still sucking happily on the straw, mind probably wondering where he can get some. Maybe bring some home.

The fact remains, and it always (still) surprises Axel; the fact that Roxas is actually really, really selfish.

-----------

They get back to the room at seven o'clock after shopping around for jobs (practice, Roxas reminds himself), and shopping is purely the term for it; as if they can go into a certain place and pick their choice off one of the shelves in one of the aisles and just throw it into their bag. Credentials and requirements have nothing to do with it, just desperation.

Axel automatically heads for the shower and Roxas decides to get out his raison d'etre; his pencil and his paper, his charcoal, and if he's feeling particularly trapped, a calligraphy pen his brother bought him for Christmas many, many years ago. For his sake he leaves it out, letting it gently roll on the table until it bumps into the alarm clock.

He carefully sketches his future; wide yellow hills, bluetopinktowhite skies, the edge of the roadside where a little cross may lay. By the time the shower turns off his hands are smudged and his world is so much different with these papers in front of him.

Before Axel gets out of the bathroom he slips the papers in between a large book that has pictures of rolling hills and blue birds and his instruments into an empty tin of what was mints - it's shaped and painted to look like a Nintendo 64 controller, and it's held his reasons for far longer than he would care to remember.

Finally the bathroom door creaks open but he feigns sleep, wondering when it will be his turn to kiss Axel goodnight.

----

Axel wakes up to the feel of Roxas whispering his name against his lips, to the weight of the boy in his lap, and to the hardness of the blond's dick, pressed into his stomach.

The teen's thumbs play under his eyes as he holds his face, where his tattoos lie stark against his skin, and he can only imagine the greasy grey matter that are splayed artistically across the skin; Roxas goes to brush his hair back and he can feel the mark of religion branded on his forehead as he is kissed, desperately, hungrily.

This is the only way he can get Roxas to sleep, he knows, and his hands slide up the boy's trembling thighs as they go towards his back, to play over the muscles coiled tight around his spine. His mouth presses against Roxas' and Roxas kisses back with fervour, teeth catching on his lower lip and a whimper buried in his throat.

With Roxas, there are no words except 'fuck' and, sometimes, 'please', sung high and desperate and delicious in his ears; but never any orders, like 'faster' or 'harder' or 'Axel', maybe said sharply or raggedly. Or passionately.

With Roxas, it is about Roxas.

Axel flips them around and kisses the boy, who just - is just Roxas.

Roxas, whose heart is big and eyes large; Roxas, who is gasping his name and grasping his hair; Roxas', whose life is so tragic sometimes Axel wishes they weren't practicing.

Roxas, who murmurs, "I swear this will be the last time."

------------------

The next day Roxas gets a call from his mother so they head home, the blond wishing that, maybe, he could stay away for even a little longer.

-----

Axel can remember the first time he and Roxas met.

He was thirteen, the age where everything seems to take on a sinister edge and suddenly you don't have enough of anything. That was the year that

1) His father died.

2) The priest stopped smoking and visited his mum a lot.

3) He killed his pet ferret by locking it in a washing machine. This was shortly after his dad died, and even though he told his mum it was an accident, he isn't so sure himself.

4) They moved to America, where all the kids made fun of his Irish accent.

5) He got suspended for the first time because some kid kept calling him a 'eurofag'.

And, lastly:

6) His mum decided he needed a job to keep him busy, since he didn't have any friends yet and she secretly wanted to get away from him for awhile.

That was how he how came to meet Roxas: by his mum saying he was really fifteen and getting him a babysitting job with one of the high paid executives at the building she cleaned at.

Roxas, of all ages, was eight. Axel later learned that both ages felt the same, the sinister edges and the not-enoughs, but he felt that since he was older and more mature and so much more experienced that nothing could compare to what he was going through. Nothing.

At any rate, it was the year 1997 and he was thirteen and Roxas was eight.

That was also the year that Axel learned what love felt like, how it sat funny in your chest and made your whole body warm.

-----------------

The year Roxas met Axel was when he was eight. Nothing else spectacular happened that year, so that year is the year he dubs as 'the one where I met Axel'.

Axel had a funny accent back then that Roxas couldn't understand, so he was often quiet and let the boy direct him by pointing and light touches. Roxas always felt really cold after Axel touched him so he wore a lot of long sleeved shirts and carried around the baby blanket his dad had hidden years ago.

Sora was a lot happier and a lot more vocal about Axel's accent, which earned him a punch in the face and extra ice cream if he didn't tell mum or dad. He was a lot less vocal and happy after that, but he always got extra ice cream.

There wasn't anything special after that - just Axel taking care of them on weekends and extra ice cream, just for him, when Sora went to the bathroom.

Axel had felt frustrated in those years and he soon learned that he could jack off several times a day before his dick got too sensitive and hurt to the touch.

He didn't feel dirty or gross for jacking off, even though he knew in the back of his mind that jacking off to the kid you babysat was really, really wrong and disgusting and he could be called a pedophile and taken to jail.

What he felt was too warm and frustrated and full of wishes, like he was burning from the inside out and the only cooling salve was - well, he thought it was work at the time, of getting away and being in authority and being himself, all wrapped in one, but. It was really touching Roxas that made him cooler, that made the burning subside and his chest pleasantly warm, not hot.

Which is why he couldn't stop touching Roxas and always gave him extra ice cream when Sora went to the bathroom. Roxas was also the only one who knew that Axel was really thirteen - but since Roxas never said much, Roxas never told anybody.

Then there was Sora, who really annoyed him sometimes. He had actually punched him in the face once because his friend Riku told him to call him a 'eurofag'. After Sora had stopped crying with plies of ice cream and apologies, Axel decided he would beat up this kid Riku at school. And he did. That was his very first fight and even if Riku was a two years younger than him he almost didn't win because his arms and legs were longer and he felt all weird when he moved them.

Axel's mum told him it was 'puberty', which was when you grew up to be a man and your limbs grew and grew and your voice sounded funny and you got fat then skinny. She also explained the whole jerking off thing to him, which she called 'masturbating' because his mum wasn't shy like that at all. She also told him he'd dream weird things sometimes, and he'd wake up with his bed wet, and that he shouldn't worry about it.

She didn't mention anything about liking boys or girls, and all Axel learned about that was from watching the telly. And what he learned from watching the telly was that you were supposed to like pretty girls, girls like the ones in his class.

He didn't know how to feel about that at all, and he never asked his mum.

In front of Roxas' eyes Axel starts growing; one day he'll be a head higher, the next he'll be a head and a half. His arms are also getting more bulgy and when Roxas looks at his bright red hair he sees that it's growing longer really fast.

He also starts touching Roxas more, and that's when Roxas notices that he never touches Sora.

But.

Roxas doesn't mind. He just feels cold sometimes, that's all.

When Axel meets Larxene, it's because she's in one of the stalls in the boy's bathroom, smoking a clove cigarette.

"What are you doing here?" He says, unsure of where to put his hands; he really needs to go bathroom. Like, really bad, and he doesn't think he can go with a girl in the next stall.

"What's it to you?" She growls, taking a drag; she coughs, and Axel can see she's trying not to blush. He guesses she's trying to be cool. She still looks pretty cool, though.

"You're in the boy's bathroom." He points out. He still really needs to go.

She shrugs; takes another drag and doesn't cough this time. He's really impressed, because it smells like shit to him. He's pretty sure his lungs would be bursting. His mama doesn't like smoking, and he's never tried.

"If they come in here," Larxene says, flicking the ashes off, "I can say it was you."

Axel takes a second to admire her gall and her smarts before his eyes stray to the side and he looks longingly at the toilet.

"You can go, you know," She states, flicking ashes again. "I don't give a shit."

"I know," He chokes out, and decides he can't do anything about it.

Roxas remembers when Axel brought a girl named Larxene over, and she was really mean. Mean enough that Sora had run to his room crying and Roxas had tried to kick her in the shins but she had punched him in the face.

"Pussy." She had muttered, before kicking him again; then she had grinned at him, meaner than Axel had ever done. "If you tell Axel, I'll tell him you tried touching me."

Roxas makes a choked sound in the back of his throat; tastes the blood coating his teeth and tries not to throw up. He knows that in the kitchen Axel is getting dinner ready

"I'll also punch you again." Larxene says, and she looks at her nails nonchalantly. He wipes at his nose and is about to get up before she kicks him in the stomach and pins him down with her foot; her heel digs into his stomach and he tries not to struggle because it really, really hurts.

"Don't tell Axel," she says again, digging in one more time before walking out of the living room.

Roxas lies still on the ground, looking up at the ceiling and trying to figure out how to tell Axel.

--------------

Axel starts dating Larxene.

It's really weird, actually, because he likes her, but not like his friend Demyx likes his girlfriend Naminé. Demyx and Naminé kiss a lot and he's heard that they've already had sex, though they won't say anything. He and Larxene - well, they kiss, but not a lot. And they hold hands sometimes, even though Larxene says she doesn't like it. They also watch a lot of movies and stuff, and go out a lot.

So Axel and Larxene are dating, though Axel doesn't like Larxene like that.

Axel even brings Larxene over to Roxas' and Sora's house sometimes, though he doesn't tell their parents - they all watch movies and Sora and Roxas are very, very quiet, which is weird but he doesn't question it.

But then Roxas talks.

"Why do you like Larxene?" He says quietly, playing with the edge of a small blanket. It's baby blue-purple with a little yellow duck on it, surrounded by flowers and grass. The duck looks happy.

He shrugs because he doesn't like Larxene like that, but then opens his mouth because this is the first time Roxas is talking to him, voluntarily. It's special. Even if they're talking about his girlfriend. "I don't know."

Roxas bites his lip; drags his top teeth across the bottom sharply enough the skin turns white to pink to red. Axel wiggles in his seat. "She's."

The boy stops; fiddles with his blanket some more. Axel realizes he's impatient, just like his mama always told him, when he can't go a minute with silence. It's either that or he just really wants Roxas to talk. He suspects that it might be a little bit of both.

"What?" He says, and flicks his eyes to the telly where little monsters are fighting against each other. One looks like a mouse who is shooting lightning, and ones a giant snake made of boulders. The little mouse looks like he's going to get killed. "What is she?"

Roxas fiddles a little and looks at Sora, who has his head on Roxas' lap and is drooling on his skin in the blissful state of sleep; Roxas doesn't seem to mind, making sure he moves as little as possible. Except for his hands. "She's."

And Roxas goes silent again; Roxas is a really shy kid.

Axel shrugs again for no better reason and tries to look nonchalant and not-annoyed. "You can tell me, ya?"

Roxas looks up at him with the biggest baby blues he has ever seen and this is the very very very first time Axel has seen Roxas' eyes full on. He freezes.

"She's mean to me and Sora. She punched me and made him cry." He says, still looking up into Axel's eyes like he'll do something about it - so full of hope and pleading and Axel still feels frozen in place. He has never felt this out of control of something.

"Oh," He says.

Roxas thinks Axel doesn't like him because he wouldn't look at him after he told Larxene was mean and punched him.

But Larxene doesn't come over anymore.

---------------

Axel breaks up with Larxene.

This is directly after she gives him a blowjob, which is when a girl puts her mouth on your dick and sucks.

It felt really, really good - amazing, having someone do that. And wet.

All Axel can think about is if boys can give blow jobs too, or just girls.

All Axel can think about Roxas and his eyes and him biting his lip and the way he eats his spaghetti, slurping it and giggling with Sora when it smacks against his cheek.

But he breaks up with Larxene right after, and doesn't mind when she stops being his friend and he gets a reputation as an asshole.

"Where's Larxene?" Roxas asks one day, before popping a fry in his mouth; they're in the park with McDonald's fries, and Sora looks over at them when he hears the name. He looks wary and suspicious under all the cute happiness and Axel feels really, really bad for subjecting her to them

He chews on his burger.

"Gone."

Roxas nods and pops another fry in his mouth, kicking his legs and looking for all the world like a kid.

Skip about, oh - five years. Axel is eighteen and Roxas is thirteen. It's the year 2002, a year after the terrorist attacks and almost a year after Axel could start buying smokes.

Axel still baby-sits them because he's kind of a sick bastard - because he realized he had had a crush on the kid he babysat when he was fifteen and a half and hadn't been able to go to their mum and say 'I can't work for you anymore'.

He also just really likes babysitting them.

Roxas has grown up quiet and serious, a little awkward but still defiant; he's the one that doesn't listen sometimes and when Axel threatens to shut off the TV he gives him a look that calls him stupid and stomps up to his room, slamming the door as hard as he can. He doesn't play any of that teenage angst bullshit, but he does play the cassettes Axel gave him.

Sora is the more cheerful one, the one who brings home his friends and is loud and can only fall asleep if he's spent an hour running around in the backyard and playing blitzball in the small pool the family owns. He also is the one who moans about his growing pains and huddles under his baby blanket to cry when he feels like it.

Roxas never cries.

Or, well, he does, but only in his bed at night; sometimes Axel stands outside the door, silent, while Roxas sniffles and gasps and curls up into a little ball on his bed. He has a separate room from Sora so Axel hears the sounds of him crying a lot more than he likes.

It's during one night, a Friday while the parents are gone out to a gala of some kind, that Axel stands out Roxas' doors and hears him breathing heavily.

This is almost always the start of a crying episode - the heavy breathing and the hitching on inhales, the tiny whine on exhales. Axel knows the sound of Roxas crying like he knows the sound of a lighter igniting; like he knows the clink of beer bottles from toasting and the sound of skin on skin in sex.

But Roxas is just breathing heavy, heavier than normal, and then it hits Axel that the boy might be sick; they'd been out in the pool when it had started raining and they'd splash around a bit before going inside. In hindsight, this was a stupid move, because he's learned that Roxas has an immune system that likes to fuck up a lot and leave him wheezing for chicken noodle soup and Buckley's.

So he knocks on the door - a thin, breathy, barely there knock - and steps in, mouth open before he realizes that Roxas isn't sick at all.

Roxas is lying on his side, and his eyes are wide and embarrassed; his face is flushed a pretty pink color and his lips look more bruised than ever. It looks like he's been biting them. His shirt is also rucked up under his armpits and both his hands are under his sheets awkwardly. Like he's holding something.

Axel's brain shuts down.

"Are you sick?" he blurts out, and he knows Roxas' knows he knows. Can see that Axel is just as embarrassed as him. "I can bring you some Buck's and some water if ya want."

Roxas plays along, though he doesn't move an inch; Axel knows he's still holding his cock under the sheets. He just doesn't want to imagine it.

"Um," Roxas says, and his voice cracks; Axel resists the urge to laugh hysterically. "I-I'm ok."

"Ok." Axel says, and starts backing up. "Alright. Goodnight."

Roxas makes a noise of acknowledgement, eyes still wide in the dark; Axel tries to focus on the blues of his eyes.

Axel backs right the fuck out there and tries to close the door as quietly as possible. He also tries to walk quietly down the stairs and into the kitchen to take a long glass of very cold water.

And some vodka. He needs some of that right fucking now.

Roxas doesn't ever tell anyone, but he still jerked off after Axel had walked in on him; he doesn't know why, but he had gotten impossibly harder.

Year 2003 - Axel is nineteen and out of school. This is the year:

1) He stopped babysitting Roxas and Sora because he had gone to Ireland for six months to visit his gran.

2) He wishes he hadn't.

3) He gets his license.

4) He got his first bartending job by lying about his age.

5) His mum got cancer.

6) He returns to his home town to find Roxas alone with his mother.

-------------

Year 2003 - Roxas is fourteen and grade nine. This is the year:

1) Axel stops babysitting them.

2) He wishes he hadn't.

3) His mum cheated on his dad.

4) They had a big fight and divorced.

5) Sora died.

6) His mum starts ignoring him because she hates him. His dad doesn't even talk to him anymore.

-------------

When Axel returns to Roxas, the first thing he says is "Where's Sora?"

Roxas doesn't talk to him for about a month after that.

Roxas actually doesn't talk.

And - well. Axel doesn't know what else to do besides sit down beside him and talk to him. He doesn't even baby-sit him anymore because he's old enough to be on his own and his own job requires too much of his time. He's usually just getting up when Roxas is coming back from school.

He also doesn't live with his mum anymore, because she just leased the teeny tiny house they had to him on his nineteenth birthday and moved to the hospital, where she lays in bed all day and sometimes walks around. She also watches a lot of TV shows, and a lot of them aren't soaps because his mum can't stand that soppy bullshit.

Axel visits her everyday before work because he loves his mum, even though they're respectfully distant; he knows his mum raised him well, even though the way the he acts sometimes doesn't show it.

About a month and a half after Roxas starts talking to him again, Roxas finally tells him (on paper) that Sora died. He doesn't say from what.

And Axel doesn't know what to say, so he doesn't say anything.

------------------

One day Axel returns and asks where Sora is. Roxas doesn't say anything because he doesn't know what to say.

He doesn't say anything for awhile.

He had been talking fine before, though not very much. He had answered questions and said good morning to his mom, even if she had never said good morning back. He also told Riku to 'fuck off' a lot, even though he didn't really like swearing, but he felt like it was called for because Riku always shoved him into lockers. He thinks it's because Sora was Riku's best friend.

At any rate, for some reason, he stops talking. No one notices.

Well, perhaps Axel does. But. Axel doesn't know Roxas stopped talking when Axel came back.

And Roxas doesn't know why, either.

-------------------

One time Axel is walking past Roxas' school and sees a kid with - honest to god - white hair shoving Roxas to the ground.

Axel isn't stupid, though he is angry - so angry that he feels like burning, like yelling and screaming and unleashing his angriness on that kid. He honestly feels like killing him. But he isn't stupid.

So he waits until after school, and is lucky because the kid comes around the wall which is hidden by a lot of trees, which is where Axel is hiding; this is when Axel realizes that this is the kid who called him a eurofag when he was younger. He thinks his name is Riku.

Axel shoves him up against the wall and slaps a hand over his mouth and waits for him to stop struggling and look at Axel through the shadows. When Riku does, his eyes widen and he tenses so much his body feels like stone under Axel's body. Riku makes a noise against his hand.

"Remember me?" Axel whispers, grinning a scary grin.

Riku nods and his eyes narrow and he starts struggling again; Axel lets go and punches him in the eye.

Riku makes a noise and slides down the wall, clearly not expecting to be punched; both his hands go up to cradle the side of his face and he stares up at Axel with hateful eyes. Axel kicks him in the stomach and crouches down, almost level with Riku.

"Since you remember me," Axel says, voice quiet. "You remember who my friend is, ya?"

Riku nods, still holding his eye. Axel slaps his face lightly, just a little playful with revengeful undertones, then so hard Riku's head snaps to the side and bounces off the wall.

"You know what I can't understand?" Axel sits down and crosses his legs, leaning in close to Riku. "I can't understand why you thought you could touch him."

Riku lunges forward, taking him by surprise; Axel barely has time to grab his hands before the boy lands on top of him; they roll around in the dirt, Riku thrashing so hard Axel gets an elbow in the face.

Axel doesn't like this at all.

He rolls on top of Riku, pins him down and punches him in the face, the mouth, the eye, the nose, until Riku stops struggling. Axel grins down at him.

"So," Axel says, a bit breathless in his excitement because it feels good to hit this kid, this kid that must torment Roxas. "You gonna touch him again?"

Riku shakes his head and groans, hands going up to cover his face.

"Say it or I'll hit you again." Axel orders, raising his fist; Riku makes a broken noise and promises he won't hit Roxas again. Axel brings his hand down to press lightly at Riku's throat. Riku makes another noise.

"I said," Axel growls out, applying pressure little by little, "you can't touch him. That includes even brushing against him in the hallway, you little dip shit."

Riku wheezes.

"Say it or I'll squeeze until you pass out. Maybe until you die." He hums, squeezing a little more.

Riku looks up at him with wide eyes.

"Say it!" Axel barks, and squeezes harder and harder; Riku's throat is straining against the pressure, thin under his hand. Axel is pretty sure he could squeeze until Riku died, if he wanted. The thought gives him a bit of a sick sort of satisfaction.

"I-I won't -" Riku coughs, tilts his head back and pressing his neck further into Axel's hand. He thinks about squeezing until he passes out anyway. "Touch him. I won't!"

Axel lets go.

"You better fucking not." Axel says, and stands up, towering over Riku; the younger boy has his eyes squeezed shut and is panting in great, heaving gasps. He lays heavy on the ground, boneless. "If you do?"

Axel stomps on his stomach; Riku curls up and wheezes, coughing.

"I'll kill you." His voice is simple, stating a fact; Riku looks up at him with wide eyes, disbelief and hatred and anger all wrapped up into the stare. Axel grins at him and steps to the side, starts walking away. He pauses to look back at Riku, who is heaving on the ground, arms wrapped around his stomach. Axel cruelly thinks it's probably the only hug he'll ever get. "Got it?" He yells.

Riku doesn't move, but through the shadows he can see the blue of Riku's eyes, shining in the dark.

Axel grins.

"See ya."

Summer is almost here when Axel takes him to meet his mother.

Roxas has never met Axel's mother- has only seen glimpses of her in the car as she dropped Axel off at their house, her dull red-brown hair, her skinny arms. Has never talked to her, so he's very nervous and doesn't know if she'll think he's weird or not.

They're visiting Axel's mother in the hospital, and Axel told Roxas his mother has cancer.

When they arrive, Megara - which is Axel's mother's name - is outside taking a drag on a smoke. Axel looks at her.

"You told me to never smoke."

Megara shrugs, rolls her shoulders under her purple hospital shirt; they're so thin. Thinner than his even, and Roxas finds that kind of scary because he's fourteen and very small for his age, apparently.

"I want to live a little, ya know. Don't have much longer before the big guy in the sky takes me, ya?" And the way she says 'ya', finishing the sentence with the question - it really reminds him of Axel. She also has the same accent Axel had way back when, though it's much thicker, as if ingrained into her voice.

Axel holds out his hand expectantly, eyeing his mother. "Give me a drag than."

"No." She says, and then nods her head towards Roxas to distract from the conversation; Roxas tries not to sink into himself like he usually does when he's meeting new people. "Who's that?"

Axel turns around and places a hand against his shoulder, pushes him forward a bit. Axel is five warm points on his shoulder and Roxas feels cold all over again; this time though, it's followed by a warm feeling, like being in a room on fire with the knowledge that you're safe.

"This is Roxas." Axel says, hand still making Roxas cold and warm all over; he wants to pull away but he actually really likes the feeling. "I used to baby-sit him, remember mum? The big house on Egbert Ave?"

Megara purses her lips.

Axel looks at Roxas, and Roxas looks back at him, unsure.

Then there is the unmistakable warmth of Axel's hands, holding his ears - all sound seems sucked into those palms, dragged into the valleys of the skin on his hands, buried deep within the creases and all Roxas hears is the sound of blood rushing. He closes his eyes.

Then Axel pulls his hands away, and Megara looks at him and smiles a tight little smile.

"I don't think we've ever met, huh kid?" She says, and holds out a thin, frail hand. "I'm Axel's mum. You can call me Meg."

Roxas reaches out a hand and grasps hers, shakes it lightly because he's afraid he'll break her; his ears are still buzzing.

She raises an eyebrow and opens her mouth when he lets go without a word.

"He doesn't talk much, mum." Axel interrupts, and his voice seems deeper somehow; the way it dips on the second word and rises on the last. The way the e's and a's are short and quick. Then Roxas remembers Axel's accent, way back when, and realizes this is his accent now.

"Ah," Megara says, nodding and taking a drag on her cigarette. "Well, m'boy, you gonna come inside now?"

Axel opens his mouth, but Roxas nods.

Axel pauses; copies Roxas' movements after a second.

"Yeah, sure mum."

-------------------

The day Axel's mum dies he takes a bowl of dark purple ink and a sowing needle and a hand mirror and sits in his room for two hours, carefully pressing the point into his cheeks.

When he takes breaks he smokes a pack of cigarettes - really nice ones called Bensen & Hedges Super Slims. They're tiny and look like little joints. They're less toxic than other brands. They taste good.

By the time he's finished the pack he's finished the tattoos - little diamonds on his cheeks that look like tears, which shine black in the dark and gleam purple under light. They look like tears as he looks in the dresser and he wonders how he can cry at a time like this. Wonders how he can't cry at a time like this.

And then he goes to bed and dreams of black sheep, nursery rhymes, and Roxas touching his face, grabbing his hands and bringing them over his mouth, over his ears, over his eyes.

And when he wakes up he touches his cheeks and thinks a thousand different swear words, all related to love.

--------------

When Roxas sees Axel's tattoos he makes a noise and reaches up to touch them.

Axel lets him, shoulder hunched and eyes dark - he smells like smoke and the skin under his fingertips feels like mirrors, and his face looks happy but Roxas knows it's an illusion.

He makes another noise in the back of his throat and Axel smiles tightly.

"Yeah, yeah, ok." He says. "But you have to get a job soon, I can't keep on buying you ice cream forever."

---------------

Alright, another two years - 2005. Axel is twenty one. This is the year:

1) He can drink. Legally.

2) He gets a truck.

3) He's up to half a pack a day.

4) He tries cocaine and doesn't like it; he ends up losing his friend Saix to it though.

5) He has three jobs.

6) Roxas gets a girlfriend.

----------

Alright, another two years later - 2005. Roxas is sixteen. This is the year:

1) Axel gets a truck that's really banged up and ugly. The door doesn't even open sometimes.

2) He's in grade eleven, and everyone is excited because that means next year is graduation.

3) He starts talking again. It's funny because his first real words in two years were 'thank you' to the pretty cashier at the local 7-eleven.

4) He gets a job at that 7-eleven.

5) His mum starts dating a guy who sometimes yells at Roxas when he's drunk.

6) He gets a girlfriend, named Xion. She's the girl at the 7-Eleven.

Axel isn't a jealous guy. He really isn't. Every time he dated someone there was never any problems with jealousy. Even when they made out right in front of him with someone. As long as they broke off laughing or were dared too.

He's not a jealous guy.

So he tries to like Xion. He really does. She's a fun girl, bold and unafraid even if she's a little angsty and likes Harry Potter to an unhealthy degree. She's cute too, with her short black hair and her big blue eyes.

But he can't - she's just too. Too. Well. Attached. Dependent. Whatever. Roxas is always with her and Roxas always talks about her and Roxas really likes her, even if no one else can tell but Axel. And the only reason Axel can tell is because he caught him reading the spin off of one of the books, something called Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them. Roxas had blushed so bad after that that Axel had to buy him two ice creams to calm him down so he could apologize for 'walking in on his alone time'.

Roxas had blushed worst and so had Axel and then they ate their ice cream and didn't talk about it.

He's not a jealous guy, but he hates acting like one.

--------------

For three months him and Xion date. They kiss and make out and stuff and she even gives him a blow job, which Roxas knew was when a girl put her mouth around your dick and sucked but didn't know how good it felt.

Afterwards, when Xion left, Roxas had wondered if guys could give blowjobs too, but than remembered he was dating a girl. A girl he liked, actually.

He likes her enough that sometimes he talks about her to Axel, even if he feels awkward doing so because Axel looks uneasy and unhappy and he sometimes interrupts to tell Roxas he'll buy him ice cream. He usually never interrupts Roxas when Roxas talks because, he guesses, Axel is happy that he is talking at all. He also never looks unhappy or uneasy when he's talking to Roxas about normal stuff.

He doesn't know why he tells Axel all this stuff, even if it makes him look like that; all he knows is that he's happy when Axel listens.

Axel's next tattoo is an eight, a swoopy one in a font that has a fancy name - Axel doesn't even remember what they called the font at the tattoo shop, but it had looked pretty good so he had gotten over his heart.

Axel got the number eight over his heart for a bunch of different reasons, most of them he thought of while he was high: he likes the feeling of infinity, of forever, of never-being-gone. He likes that it's after seven, which is a lucky number, and likes that it's before nine, which is always too much. He likes that everyone always skips eight because it sits inconspicuously between those two numbers and never makes any fanfare.

Axel doesn't show Roxas this one because - he doesn't know why. He thinks maybe it's some kind of punishment towards Roxas, not sharing this part of himself with the boy.

But then he wishes he showed Roxas as soon as he got it, because Roxas' life is tragic and he needs someone who understands him completely.

Three months and one day after they start dating, Xion disappears and no one knows where she goes.

No one, not even her parents. There is no note, no letter, no memo, no nothing. There are no words.

Three months and two days after they start dating, and one day after she disappears, his mom tells him they're moving.

They move into a tiny house on 24th, which is a bad place.

But Roxas doesn't care.

Xion is gone and his mother is broke and his brother is dead and his dad hasn't contacted him in years.

Roxas doesn't care.

An hour after he comes home from his bartending job there's a knock on his door and he knows it's Roxas. Because it's Roxas he doesn't feel angry at all, doesn't feel the need to go to the door and tell them to piss right the fuck off; instead, he opens the door with a small confused smile.

"Oi, whatchu doing up so late Rox? It's four AM. Don't you got school tomorrow?"

Roxas brushes past him, shoulders damp; he's guessing it's spitting out, just enough to get you a little wet if you walked a couple of blocks. He's surprised Roxas isn't wetter, actually - his house was more than an hour away on foot. Axel himself had made the trek many times.

Axel follows him into the hallway, stands vigil at his bedroom door where he watches Roxas strip off his shirt, rummage around in the bottom drawer for a new one - Axel doesn't know when he started keeping some of Roxas' clothes here, and doesn't remember why. He also doesn't know when he started being a pervert (though he has a clue), because the way he's watching Roxas undress is a little creepy. They've known each other long enough to be able to do it comfortably, yes, but - still. He knows he harbours an unhealthy obsession with the boy.

Roxas pulls his shirt over his head and doesn't look at him.

"I mean," Axel starts, because sometimes he has to fill in the silence. "I'm not really the person who can actually say this, considering what the hell I did in school, but you should get your sleep, ya? You get good grades and all. Don't wanna mess that up."

Roxas turns around and glances at him out of the corner of his eye; Axel turns around and leans against the door jam, listens to the gross sound of wet pant cuffs hitting his furnished floor. Tries not to think of Roxas, mostly naked from the waist down. Sick asshole a voice says, and it startlingly sounds like Larxene. He ignores it because he never liked Larxene anyway.

Roxas shuffles around and Axel turns around, safe in the knowledge that Roxas is wearing pants; what he isn't aware of is that they're Axel's pyjama pants, ones with purple and black stripes. Where they are loose on him, though, they fit nicely on Roxas; his mouth goes dry as he takes in the stretch of the band, the way they fit around Roxas' hips.

"You don't have any of your own pants?" Axel blurts out, training his eyes on Roxas' cheekbone. It doesn't matter though, as Roxas doesn't look at him and doesn't catch him staring. But he does shake his head, fiddling with the strings that tighten the waistband. Axel resolutely does not look, and says, instead "I guess it's almost a washday, ya?"

Roxas makes no acknowledgment of this, either, and shuffles towards the queen bed pushed against the wall. Axel makes a humming noise and goes out into the hallway, grabs an extra blanket because he knows Roxas gets cold at night.

When he returns Roxas is curled up underneath the thin fleece blanket, head making a unique indent in the pillow; his eyes are already closed and when Axel throws the blanket over him, making sure it covers all of him, Roxas blinks at him a second before his eyes are shielded by the wool.

Axel laughs, reaches his hand to flip the cover over. When it settles Roxas is smiling a bit, a tight little smile that shows Axel that something is wrong (like he thought there was) but his world was made just a bit better. Axel grins back.

"Go to sleep, eh? I'll drop you off at lunch." When Roxas nods, eyes already closing, Axel stands up and touches the base of his lamp twice. The light shuts off and the room is cast in darkness, except for the glow of the street light outside. Axel is halfway across the room when it flickers out suddenly, and he turns around in reflex to ask if Roxas wants a night light, even if it's been more than six years since Roxas needed one.

When he looks back Roxas has already turned over, back facing him. In the light from the hallway Axel sees he is taking deep breathes, deep heaving ones. Axel remembers how it was when Roxas cried at night.

He takes a deep breath, and puts his hand on the doorknob.

"Night, Rox." He whispers loudly, and closes the door; he walks to the living room, plops down on his ratty couch, and watches TV with the sound on mute until he falls asleep.

When Roxas wakes up he wakes up with startling clarity; he's aware of everything around him, every little thing from the cheap smell of Axel's bed sheets, which smell like they've come from a motel, to the scratchy feeling of wool pressed against his cheek, leaving creases.

What he is most aware of, though, is the buzz of the television screen in the living room and, beneath it, Axel breathing deeply and unevenly. For some reason, Roxas knows Axel is asleep, has his head resting on the back of the couch, neck exposed. He can picture it as clear as day, as clear as the sunlight slanting through the plastic blinds, creating prison bars on the couch cushions, and the shade of blue that decorates the lamp. Roxas remembers Axel bought it from his next door neighbour for a dollar fifty. He had grinned as if it was the best thing he had ever found at a garage sale.

He lays there for a few minutes, just feeling everything around him; he's not sure why it's like this. Why he's hypersensitive to every little single thing around him. It's an odd feeling, and a little unwelcome, but it's there nonetheless and he thinks he should ink it for all it's worth.

From the living room he can hear Axel make a noise; a sleep noise, a breathy little sigh. He can smell Axel beneath the cheap detergent smell, something like sulphur and chemical sweetener. If he breathes deep enough he can taste it in the back of his throat, and it makes him choke a little. But. It's a nice smell.

He thinks of Axel in these sheets, his long body taking up the whole bed, limbs sprawled out like the one time he had seen Axel asleep at his house while his parent's were out. Remembers that Axel didn't sleep with his mouth open. That he only wore underwear to bed because he got ridiculously hot at night, always had a hand resting on his stomach, just below his navel, for some odd reason.

In Roxas' mind pictures come up, and he doesn't do anything to stop them; he can imagine Axel laying where he lays, but with a girl on top of him, bra sliding down her arms. Imagines his hands coming to rest on her hips, and when they slide down her thighs she - she turns into a guy, a guy Roxas has only seen once, in the back of Axel's mom's car. A blond with weird hair, and he can imagine Axel grinning up at him, fingers splayed on all that skin and Roxas wonders how it's like with a guy. Can't imagine it, except for Axel and that boy in his head.

Then, more alarmingly: he can see Axel rubbing himself against the sheets, can see him with his hands pushing down the band of his underwear. Perhaps the most frightening image of all is when he can imagine Axel's face perfectly, the slightly open mouth and the closed eyes, brows relaxed, flushed cheeks. Can practically feel his shoulders tensing against the sheets, feet bunching the fabric as he pushes his hips off the bed.

And - Roxas is so, so hot, prickly where the blanket touches him. He's aware of his own body, can feel his blood, and he knows that if he puts his hands under the sheets, just presses the palm of his hands against his cock, he could be hard. He could be hard ridiculously easy, like if he was thirteen again, back when everything was slotted into place and all he had to worry about were his grades and the growing pains.

This is when he realizes he's terrified.

In the living room Axel yawns. Thankfully, the images reroute to him with his mouth wide, canines sharp, little tears in the corner of his eyes. He thinks that Axel yawns real obnoxiously, like he's making a show of it. Then again, all of Axel's actions are obnoxious and loud, designed to make people notice him as much as possible. It's actually a pretty useless tactic, he thinks, because it's hard not to notice Axel no matter what.

It's this, for some reason, that brings Roxas down, that makes everything as it should be and cools his skin and reroutes the wires in his brain to think normally. To think of Axel as one of his oldest - no, his oldest - friend.

Everything is as it should be, so he flips the blankets over and swings his legs over the side and thinks of breakfast, which is lunch, which may be dinner by now.

Axel is cooking egg bagels, which is just sliced cheese on sunny side up eggs on a toasted bagel, when Roxas clomps into the kitchen, hands swinging at his sides. His eyes are bright and he's so relaxed, more relaxed than Axel has ever seen him. It's weird. It reminds him of Demyx after jamming it at The Thirteen, which is a bar with loyal customers and coffee liqueur.

He grins a bit at Roxas, who smiles back - this makes him grin wider and salute the blond with the spatula in hand, because whatever was bugging Roxas seems to have disappeared into thin air.

"You missed lunch, and it's already one thirty, so I say it's a 'fuck school' day." He greets, turning back to the hissing pan; he nudges the edges of the egg, which are starting to brown just a bit. Roxas likes it a bit crispy. "You're mum won't mind, ya?"

Roxas makes a low, throaty hum that makes Axel stall for a second before flipping the egg over; the yolk kind of runs off to the side but it's nothing he can't fix with cheese.

"I mean," Axel says, for lack of anything better because he hates silences. "Your mum's a cool lady and all, but I think she'd kick my ass if she found out I didn't wake you up and drive you there."

Roxas hums again, just a bit. He's probably still sleepy, Axel thinks, and turns around to look at the boy.

The most disconcerting thing is that Roxas is staring at him with his bright eyes, sharp and focused as if Axel was a subject of study; as if there was tons of things to lean about Axel that he couldn't wait to know. It was a look Axel had seen a bunch of times from different, random people, yes, but none were as intense as Roxas' was. That and the fact, he suspected, that he had an unconceivable and forever-will-be-unacquainted crush on the boy.

Roxas looks away and blushes once he sees Axel's eyes on his face, ducking his head to stare at his nails, which are drumming away on the small tabletop. He notices that they're short and ragged, and then he thinks this is getting ridiculous. It's been ridiculous for years.

"You want me to drive you home after?" Axel blurts out, trying not to sound as awkward and hopeful as he feels. "I mean, it's spitting out. Still. I don't want you catching a cold ya know?"

From beneath his eyelashes Roxas looks up and Axel struggles with self preservation and self mortification, despairing in the fact that it's moments like these, these precious ones where Roxas looks so in need of him, that has made him uncontrollably in love with the boy.

"You don't need to," Roxas says, and his fingers stop drumming on the table and slip beneath it, presumably to clasp his hands together. "I only live five blocks away now."

Axel blinks at that. "Ya?"

Roxas nods. "My mom moved two days ago."

"Oh." Axel says. Then, "Sweet. You can come over more often now, ya?"

Roxas nods at that, back to staring at something on the surface of the table. Axel stares at him for a few more seconds, seeing if there is anything else to be said; when nothing is forthcoming, he turns around and realizes he's burned the eggs.

That night, Roxas goes to bed, still energetic but knowing he has to sleep; knowing there is nothing to do at eleven at night because the internet gets boring, his friends are in bed because it's a school night, and Axel is out, working at the bar.

He lays in bed and thinks. Surprisingly, Xion- well, there are thoughts of her, but mostly it's only a little sadness. Not the big, sweeping sadness of the last few weeks, the consuming anger and bitterness that came with her disappearance. Her kidnapping.

Mostly, he thinks of the past, the future, and the difference between happiness and contentment.

Roxas goes to bed that night, but he doesn't sleep.

Two weeks from when Axel learned Roxas had moved five blocks away the blond comes over again; it's five in the morning though, which is odd in and out of itself because, again, Roxas has school, and he's surprised the boy is even willing to walk around on 24th. Mostly because people usually get shanked or worse around this time.

And, as it is, Axel was almost asleep.

"Man, Roxas, it's a little early, don'tcha thing?" He grumbles but opens the door wide anyways, steps back a bit. For a second Roxas stalls, head down under his hoodie; it's in this second that Axel realizes something is wrong, different and out of place. This isn't Roxas, some stupid part of his mind whispers. Then Roxas looks up, eyes a deep bruised blue and skin pale as a doctor's office and that part is silenced easily. Another part rises within him though - worry and unhappiness, and a little bit of shame. He should know what's making the boy this - this sick looking, but he doesn't.

Because he doesn't, and because of his shame, he grabs Roxas' arm and pulls him in. Casual bantering is a usual between them, but random touching is not. It shocks the blond so much he looks startled awake, like he hasn't been this aware in days.

"Man, you look like shit." Axel says to cover the worry in his heart yelling at him to get that look of off Roxas now. "What have you been doin' lately, working yourself to death? School ain't that important. Shit, Roxas."

The last words make Roxas look up in surprise, as if he wasn't aware why that would be such a cause for concern. At Axel's stern look his lips quirk up a bit and it's that small gesture, barely noticeable to anyone else, that makes him relax a little.

"Christ." Axel laughs.

Roxas chuckles with him a bit but doesn't say anything, hands going to the bottom of his hoodie to pull it over and off. Axel has an expert sense of timing on when he should and shouldn't look; it's been honed over the years, ever since he found out he should be ashamed of this stupid little thing called love.

At any rate, he looks away and walks towards the kitchen, blind to the skin of Roxas' stomach as its revealed while the boy struggles to pull the jacket over and off.

By the time the water is in the teapot and Axel has sat out some Masala Chai for himself, Roxas is sitting in the kitchen chair, face more stark in the fluorescent lights of the kitchen.

Axel takes the light and time to study Roxas' face. There is definitely some difference since he has last seen him. There's the bruised skin around the eyes - which were obvious in the dark but now look like deep purple markings, dark as plums. Then there's the paleness of his face, almost as pale as Axel's own which is startlingly terrifying as the teen is usually tan, a nice smooth color. And also, the weight loss - Roxas has always been a skinny kid but now he looked like those drug addicts that frequented the Thirteen, the ones who cursed at him for the black lights in the bathroom.

And lastly, and most frightening, is the look on Roxas' face and most prominently in his eyes. Like he isn't aware at all of his surroundings, like he's going through the motions and hardly that. A mechanical look. That is what has Axel worried most.

The tea kettle whispers and another point is added to his mental checklist of what-is-wrong-with-Roxas: he's been staring at the boy all this time and he's said nothing, just stared into space as if it held some kind of comfort worth searching for.

While Axel gets the tea ready - three sugars - there's predominately silence in the room. It is comfortable, but only because it feels like there is only Axel there. Roxas is so out of it, in his own world, it's like he's not anywhere near him.

"What do you want to drink?" He finally asks, and Roxas is silent.

He almost whips around in surprise when Roxas laughs and says, "Alcohol."

He gives Roxas a strong, steady stare but there is no defiance in his eyes when he looks back at Axel. Just some washed-out amusement. So he shrugs, and goes about to find some alcohol. It's when he realizes he is out of beer that he gets creative, grabs some fruity looking concoction and trusty butterscotch schnapps.

The small clink of the ceramic cup against the table seems to shake Roxas out of his daze, his eyes snapping to the offending sound before he realizes what it is. His hands come up - shaky, Axel notices - and wrap around the cup. The first sip already seems to do something for him as his shaking stops and he visibly relaxes. It also lets Axel relax - at least Roxas is good enough to drink.

The second sip Roxas takes makes him look up in surprise, lick his lips at what Axel knows is sweetness. "What is it?"

"It's called a Skittles." He says simply, and they go back to the silence.

Roxas sips methodically at his cup and Axel tries not to be too obvious in his staring is all it takes for the worry in his heart to make him speak.

"So you going to tell me what's up with you lately, Roxas? I wasn't lying, you look like shit." Axel takes a drink out of his cup, enjoys the spiciness of it on his tongue before putting it down on the counter he's leaning against. He doesn't like drinking or eating when he's talking to someone - he doesn't want his attention divided. Especially not now, with Roxas looking up at him with no discernable emotion on his face.

"There's nothing going on," Roxas says after another minutes silence; he takes a sip of his tea. Axel suspects it's half empty by now. "No drugs or anything like that, if that's what you're worried about."

He takes another sip. There is no other forthcoming responses, it seems, so Axel sneaks a sip of his own tea and waits. After awhile - three more sips and one large gulp, now that the tea has cooled down a bit - Roxas looks up again.

"I promise." Roxas smiles a bit. "Pinky swear."

There's something familiar about that - the good natured teasing and casualness of their relationship - that makes Axel relax further.

At the other end though, Roxas still looks like shit.

"It has to be something, with you looking like that." Axel surveys Roxas, the way he looks a little more alive but not much. Remembers his mum's preaching on the miraculous property of tea (and alcohol), and thanks any Lord above it seems to be working on the blond, even though it only seems to be helping a little.

"You really know how to make a girl feel pretty, Axel." Roxas says, smile still etched on his face. It hasn't changed for the last minute, this expression, and that's when Axel realizes Roxas is almost half asleep. "Three times in the last minute? You'd thi-"

"Roxas." Axel's voice has a final tone to it, a 'stop being a shithead' tone, that makes Roxas pause. Axel stares at him, his near-vacant eyes, and goes to move. He manages to twitch in Roxas' direction before the blond is up and out of his seat, heading towards the sink with empty coffee cup in hand. For someone half-dead, Axel thinks, he sure is a fast little bugger.

The cup clinks against the sink when Roxas puts it down and he looks up at Axel, eyes a brighter shade of blue up close. It makes him suck in a breath, how close they are and how different this kind of closeness is, but he pushes it aside.

"I'm not lying." Roxas' mouth twists into a frown. "There's nothing going on."

"And I believe you, but Roxas-" Fuck the weirdness, the worried voice inside him says, and he grabs onto Roxas' left arm. It is firm under his arm, real and anchored, and this is perhaps what makes Axel feel grounded. Feels less like something totally different from what he's thinking is going on. "Dude, you're worrying me-"

And that's when Roxas leans up and kisses him.

-----------

Roxas doesn't know why he kisses Axel. It just happens because Axel - is Axel. Axel has known him for over ten years and knows many things other people don't. Axel loves him. He knows Axel loves him because Axel kisses him back and the hands on his back are gripping, hard and desperate, and he wonders how long Axel has loved him. Loved him like this, he means.

"Forever." Axel gasps into his mouth, kisses him open and hot. "Forever."

When they have sex, Roxas is happy and full and - this is what sex feels like. Smooth and everything he never thought it would be. Something like.

Love, Sora whispers in his head, and Roxas jerks forward and cries out as he comes.

Afterwards, Axel wraps him in his arms and kisses his forehead, and Roxas traces the fancy eight that lays dark above his heart with trembling fingers.

-----------------

"My Dad died when I was thirteen," Axel says; Roxas' head is lying on his arm, kind of painful and causing bright little needles to burst into his fingertips. That doesn't stop him from stroking the light hair at his temple, trailing the tips down to his jaw and back up again. "On Gavaghy Road. He was in an Orange Order Parade, and I don't know what that means except he died. Some people beat him to death."

Roxas, silent, is tracing his own fingertips over the tattoo that lays above his heart; the skin whispers with leftover arousal, warm where skin meets skin, but Axel plows on because he feels like it's important that Roxas knows the death he's seen in his life; it's important that Roxas understands that Axel can relate, in a way.

"Sometimes I think about it," Axel murmurs after a minute of silence, in which he flexes his toes; Roxas' legs curl up into his, knees knocking. The blond glances up at him through his lashes and than lowers his eyes, still staring intently at the tattoo. "About how it feels to be beaten to death like that, and how my dad felt. How my mum felt when she found out."

Axel laughs a mirthless little laugh at his next words; he stops petting Roxas' head for a second, but continues when Roxas looks up at him.

"I remember I got so mad that I thought putting my pet ferret in the washing machine would be funny, that it'd cheer me up and shit. But I killed it."

Axel, in a split second of complete trust, says "I'm still not sure if I was trying to kill it or not. But I did."

And when Roxas looks up at him, reverent and saddened, Axel wonders why he trusts the boy so completely.

Roxas sleeps, and in his dreams he dreams of fire and burning and being completely and utterly safe.

When he wakes up, he wakes up satisfied, hands caught in Axel's.

------------

Axel wasn't sure what he was expecting, but it's amazing when the sex continues. It's amazing when Roxas comes over every second night and climbs into his lap, presses little, shy kisses to his lips and his eyelids and to the tattoos, which he had re-inked the very first night he and Roxas had sex.

He's extremely happy. Incomparably. Nothing brings down his world, not even the shitty customers at work or his electricity being cut off for the day. Not even the fact that, sometimes, he doubts things. Things that have no place in his mind anyway, like why Roxas kissed him and the appropriateness of having sex with a sixteen- almost seventeen- year old.

On Roxas' birthday, which is twenty one days after he and Roxas first had sex, Axel texts him.

'Happy bday Roxy. hows 17 goin 4 u?'

For an hour and a half, there's no reply - which is fine, the bar is getting plenty busy anyway. It's right near a university campus, Thursday's get like that.

When the reply comes, he's on his break. Which is lucky, since you're not supposed to have your phone out when you're behind the counter. At any rate, lucky break. He reaches into his pocket and flips open his phone

'good, got some money. Drinkin w friends'

'good times, good times. can i c mr sweet 17 l8er?' Axel types back, and then there's a call down the bar from some dip shit that doesn't know how to ask without being an idiot. After a ten minute debate with the guy about how he was too drunk for more and another ten getting security to kick his ass out, Axel checks his phone again. Still no reply.

It's after closing time, right after the last straggler leaves the bar and Tifa, one of the workers, is in the back counting up the cash that his phone vibrates quietly in his pocket; he takes it out when he's sure Tifa or one of the other workers aren't looking and presses the 'open button' and reads it.

'cant, sorry'

Can't, sorry. Axel says in his head. The voice in his head, Roxas', is bored and a little apologetic but not entirely- as if saying it for his benefit. Axel thinks, that's how he would say it.

Can't, sorry- leaves a bitter taste in the back of his mouth.

Can't, sorry. Makes him realize that really, they're not dating. He doesn't know why he feels so-

At any rate, Axel shrugs it off because he's not a jealous guy. He doesn't control his lovers. And, point in case, he and Roxas aren't even dating. Just. Fucking. That's all they're doing, apparently. Axel isn't a jealous guy, and he's done the fuck buddy dance before. He knows where he stands, mostly.

He can't help the bitter feeling in the back of his throat

'Can't, sorry.' Axel thinks, putting his phone into his pocket just before Tifa sees, coming out of the back room.

'Can't, sorry.' Axel says, stealing a bottle of rum from the back and stuffing it into his backpack, warily eyeing Luxord as he comes to grab his jacket.

'Can't, sorry.' Axel thinks after one, two, three shots, right into the darkness.

When Roxas comes to in the morning it's to the searing light streaming through the windows and to the clacking of the dishes in a sink nearby. It takes a few more minutes for him to realize that no one would be doing the dishes at his house, and he was supposed to be in Pence's basement.

Apparently, he isn't, and when he opens his eyes it's to the scratchy wool of Axel's blankets and to the stains of his ceiling, looking less and less artistic by the second. He slow-blinks, tries to make his eyes see shapes in the swaying ceiling, and that's when he realizes he is, perhaps, still a little drunk.

He takes a deep breath, gathering himself for what's to come, and says one, two, three quietly under his breath. It takes all of his strength to fling off the tangled blankets and swing his legs over the side of the bed, and even more than he has to not hurl. He abruptly falls back onto the sheets, stares up at the intricate stains once more as he tries to remember what happened last night.

Nothing, really, except good times. Laughing in Pence's basement with a his small group of friends. Olette, Hayner, Pence, and more recently a girl named Namine. He remembers kissing her cheek, cheering on Hayner and Olette at guitar hero, and playing never-have-I-ever. A shock crawls up his spine when he realizes he had taken a drink when asked about sex when he had never drank before. The excitement following and the exclamations and then more drinks to distract everyone.

And then, the latest memory-

"Mom ain't answering." Roxas mumbled, giggled a little when he had to grab the lamp post to steady himself. Inside the car Olette looks up at him, big wide eyes in the dark.

"Shit," Pence swears, tightens his grip on the wheel. "Well, you can-"

"Take me to Axel's." Roxas said, then laughed. "Yeah, Axel's, I can sleep there."

And then, apparently, he had gone to Axel's.

There's more clinking dishes coming from the kitchen, the soft mutter of a television show that's probably some crappy infomercial. Axel likes watching them in the mornings - they require no thinking whatsoever, don't need any coffee to help focus. It's like magazine ads before The Great Gatsby Axel had explained once, tapping his fingers on the required book for Roxas' English class. Appetizer before main course.

Roxas makes another attempt at standing up.

This time he succeeds but the world swims dangerously off tilt, slides to the side for one second. He stumbles to the side with it and bangs his hand against the table painfully; a sharp ache shoots up his arm and blossoms out hot. A startled noise escapes his throat and for a second he feels bile come up with it. He manages to hold it back - but barely. It stings his throat and for a glorious second the world rights itself and he manages to stand straight with it.

The world still swims as he walks but he's slowly getting used to it, his footsteps heavy as his breathing. By the time he gets to the kitchen, where he smells eggs and toasts, he's mostly - walking straight. Less staggering, at any rate.

"Fuck." Roxas says first, and Axel turns around and eyes him.

It's the first time something like contempt shows on his face, a kind of regret that Roxas has never - well, had never expected from Axel. It makes his eyes seem so much darker, the small frown on his face say a lot more than just discontent. For a second Roxas pauses, then squints. When he looks again Axel just has an eyebrow raised and is looking him up and down.

"Still drunk?" His voice sounds rougher than usual, something more than the just-woke-up disuse that it usually is. For a weird second he thinks that he must be in someone else's house and he's just - having an Axel illusion. Imagining Axel there. Or dreaming. After the second though it's just Axel, waiting for a response with a raised eyebrow and a pan cover in one hand.

Roxas nods then opens his mouth a bit, licks his teeth for no reason other than an urge. This makes Axel's eyebrows crawl further up his forehead and a strange expression to pass over his face.

"Roxas?"

"Yeah." Roxas says, "Yeah."

It's weird in the room Roxas realizes, an energy passing through them - Axel looking at him with that still weird expression on his face and Roxas trying to resist the urge to lick his teeth and slouch a bit. That's when he pins the energy down. Sexual tension. It's sexual tension.

That makes Roxas feel - well, now that he knows what it is he feels a little horny, but it also makes him feel like this is a normal relationship. And it isn't, he tells himself. They only have sex at night, when Roxas is tired, and he's not tired right now, and he doesn't want to sleep, and. This isn't a normal relationship.

"Woah, Roxas, buddy-"

And that's Axel moving forward, the expression on his face - which was lust and anticipation, Roxas figures - has disappeared completely and is replaced with worry and alarm. Roxas doesn't know why until his ass hits the floor and a sharp flare of pain shoots up his back repeatedly.

"Ow, holy fuck, ow." Roxas says, and then tries to get back up. And fails.

When he looks up though, the worry on Axel's face is replaced with laughter and a big silly grin; he's also about a foot from his face, crouched down as if to either help Roxas back up or laugh in his face.

"You're definitely still drunk, Rox." Axel says, lips curved upwards and eyes squinted. It's a good look for Axel he thinks; all happy and loose and. Happy. Roxas thinks he must definitely still be drunk because he can't put any words to the feelings hiding in his chest.

"Let's get you up."

Axel stands up, bends over to extend his hand, as if Roxas wouldn't be able to reach it way up high. Way, way up high Roxas thinks as he looks up and catches the bright light of the kitchen surrounding Axel, making the edges of him bright and fuzzy and warm. Almost untouchable, Roxas thinks. And then he realizes he's waxing poetic about Axel and Axel being angelic. That is wrong in so many ways. For one, Axel is - is not, in any way, angelic.

But maybe, the funny feeling in his chest says.

When Roxas grabs Axel's hand he grabs it with both of his for some reason; he doesn't even know why, he just does. Like he wants to be anchored when Axel pulls him up. Stupid thought, still drunk, he reminds himself and when Axel pulls him up those thoughts go with him. Almost comically, actually, as his feet totally feel like they miss the ground and he falls into Axel. Like in those romance movies they go to specifically to throw popcorn at and get kicked out for.

Because he is holding Axel's hand with both of his there is no way to cushion his fall so he lands with a small outtake of air, an 'oof' that's hardly even audible. Axel laughs as Roxas falls into him, a chuckle right into his ear as another arm comes up to wrap around his shoulders.

"Woah." Axel says simply, and when Roxas looks up he's smiling down at him, happy and amused.

The expression changes though - something in Roxas' face, though he doesn't know what it would be, makes it change and turn into something more searching and meaningful. It's like - there's something shifting here. The air is different and everything, Roxas thinks. This is - different.

For the life of him he can't figure out what's changing.

Until Axel kisses him. The redhead leans down and presses his lips against Roxas', slightly opened and softly inviting. The hand not caught between Roxas' slides to his waist and rests firmly there. It's that which makes Roxas realize what's shifting.

We've never really kissed like this before.

Axel coaxes his mouth open and that's when Roxas realizes he's kind of straining up to meet Axel, participating without even knowing it. His body wants and is leaving his mind behind. And even though they haven't moved Roxas feels like throwing up from motion sickness and emotion sickness because this is all so weird and different.

Amazing, something inside him says, and his hands loosen around Axel's and go to grip the redhead's shoulders.

The kisses are open and sweet and there's almost an innocent quality to them, their tongues sliding together without pushing and the small kisses Axel will press to his cheek, nose, eyelids, in between for breath. Roxas' hands are gripping Axel's shoulders, anchoring him it seems like, though he feels like he could go nowhere and anywhere at once, Axel's arms around his waist.

It's all so sweet and - and different, Roxas' mind won't stop repeating.

And in some time they move, though Roxas doesn't know when - one minute they're pressed against each other, close as can be, and in the next Axel has grabbed him and pushed him up onto the table. It's more comfortable this way, where he doesn't have to crane his neck to meet Axel, and at once Axel starts kissing him again, soft and sweet like before.

From there it gets - a little more hurried. Different, again, as his hands grip Axel's shoulders tightly, Roxas' legs around Axel's waist as the redhead pushes their cocks together through the fabric. The table is squeaking, barely audible above the pounding of Roxas' heart and the rushed pattern of both their breathes, and for awhile it's just that - rubbing against each other on Axel's kitchen table and kissing like well-known lovers.

It's a particular sharp thrust - one Roxas pushed into - where it all seems to break.

"Roxas." Axel whispers against his mouth.

And it's when Axel says that it all comes crashing down, what he's doing. Kissing Axel on the kitchen table.

It's the familiarity that scares Roxas - like the first step in an easy road to - to what? To - to being together with Axel? To being his boyfriend? To being his - his lover? It scares Roxas, and for some reason he cannot figure out why.

Roxas goes stiff against Axel. The change in demeanour is noticeable enough that Axel pulls back, face flushed and eyes bright. It is at first dear and then terrifying to Roxas.

"Just-" Roxas' hands, still clenched around Axel's shoulders, move to push him away.

"What's wrong?" And Axel is back to his usual self, in a split second flash - there is no expression on his face that makes Roxas want to cradle him and push him away at the same time. It's probably this that makes him feel calmer, less like something is spinning out of control.

"I - I can't." He stutters, and at once the spinning out of control feeling is back again, a whirlwind inside of him that makes him want to throw up. He tries to show this on his face, this mash-up of emotions, this pleading, but Axel seems to see none of it. His face goes from confused to disbelief, a kind of 'why-not?' anger that Roxas remembers feeling himself a few times when he was younger.

And it's exactly what is said; Axel's eyebrows furrow and he takes a millimetre step back, creating some breathing distance between the two. "Why not?"

Axel's hands have fallen from his hips to the countertop so that there is little to no contact between them. This, with the breathing space and the change of expressions makes Roxas feel more - less panicked. At the same time there are no coherent thoughts in his head, no solid emotions, and it is maybe why he says what he says next.

"I - I don't need to… right now. Don't need to sleep."

It is in those terrible sentences that Roxas sees it all click into place for Axel. The late night sleep-over's, the sex only at night and only when Roxas instigated it. The long hours of rest and how he usually only came on weekends.

At once he wants to take it back, hold it down into the deeper depths of him so no one in the world could see, least of all Axel, but what's done is done. The redhead's face slides into a professional blankness and he steps away from Roxas. Roxas desperately wants to drag him back.

"So you've been using me?" And his voice is so cool and - Roxas has never heard such a tone directed at him before, this unattached level sound. It makes him cringe. He wants to take it back, all of it, but of course he can't. He tries to anyway, opens his mouth in desperation.

"I-"

"You know what?" Axel says, cutting him off. "Never mind."

And with that he turns around. No looks, no words, nothing - no looking back even. Axel walks out of there, shoulders square and head high and for all the world Roxas wants to know what he's thinking.

"Wait-" But the words die on his lips because he knows, he knows, Axel wouldn't turn around for the world.

He hears the water going, the sound of the shower he's heard so many times before, and it somehow makes him feel like mourning. For maybe jumping into the shower with Axel, clothes and all and professing - professing his need for him. But the bathroom door locks, so Roxas-

Well, he leaves. Because he doesn't know what to say.

------------------

The last time Axel talked to Roxas - well, he's never felt so idiotic in his life.

And Axel wants to stay angry, he does. He wants to never talk to the boy again, and maybe even move somewhere else because Roxas - Roxas shit all over him, so badly it still hurts a month and a half later, but one day he picks up his phone and hears:

"I'm. Sorry. Let's-" And the licking of lips over the line, so clear in Axel's head he aches. "Let's go somewhere. Far away."

And that's how our story begins. With an apology and a road trip.

-------------

"Hey." Axel says, sliding into the booth across from Roxas. Roxas looks up at him then back down to his fries, intent on stuffing his face. He only had twenty five more minutes before school drags him back.

The redhead seems to get this and remains silent, focusing on his own meal. Roxas glances over and refuses to shake his head in disgust - of course Axel would get the most disgusting thing on the menu. And the greasiest. And probably the most fattening. Teenage girls would faint at the sight of it, he thinks.

Axel catches him staring in his direction and quirks a grin, a sly one that's something like his trademark, his default expression. Roxas has seen it so many times that he automatically grins back, forgetting there's food in his mouth. Axel laughs at him.

It feels normal and fluid, all this, and for that Roxas is grateful because - well honestly. He hadn't… known what he wanted when he asked Axel to go far away with him. There had been forgiveness, yes. Hope (which he still hadn't figured out why it was there). And, first and foremost, desperation. He wanted Axel to - love him again. Just like usual.

At the same time, Roxas doesn't know what he could give back. He still hasn't figured that one out.

"Roxas." Axel says, and Roxas looks up from daydreaming.

Axel has that same grin again, and Roxas wants to -

"Hey." Roxas says back, blushing. Axel grins teasingly but spares him the embarrassment by saying nothing about it.

"What'd your mum say anyway? Did ya get in trouble?" Axel's grin widens even further. "Did you get a spanking?"

Roxas throws Axel a dirty look at that, remembering when he was eleven. When he had yelled at his mother for breaking his game boy and got bent over and spanked because of it. He also remembers that Axel had been there. And watched.

"Shut up." He mumbles, and Axel laughs so hard they get a few looks from the people around them. Because he knows Axel won't shut up on command he toes under the table until he finds a limb and then kicks enough that it hurts. Axel shuts up and glares at him.

"She - didn't do anything. Just thought I was at your place the whole time and wanted me to come home."

Roxas thinks of how he had felt like when he had heard no worry, no fear or question in her voice. Just the annoyed tone, telling him to get home as soon as possible and next time tell her where he went, for God's sake, he should at least have the decency to do that.

Axel must see the look on his face because his own face drops, but at the same time he doesn't say anything; just takes a bite of his greasy burger and chews slowly, waiting for Roxas.

When there is no reply forthcoming after three bites, Axel puts down his burger.

"Where are we going next?" Axel says, and it startles Roxas out of his reverie.

It's such a surprising question, and out of nowhere. It's also really out of character for Axel to be so blunt. Usually he doesn't say anything directly. It's an annoying trait of his that's always bothered Roxas, but right now he wishes more than anything that Axel was still as vague as ever.

Axel gives him a questioning look.

" I, uh. Don't know. I haven't really thought about it." He stumbles, and for a distraction he shoves a handful of fries into his mouth.

"Sexy."

It takes a few minutes for Roxas to chew and when he finally does it feels like one big lump is in his throat. Blocking his ability to talk he thinks sarcastically, even though. No, it's not. Obviously. He's just a gigantic idiot that can't get what he wants straight.

"Roxas - "

Axel's tone is no-nonsense, flat, and commanding. It's not a voice that Roxas really responds well to, and the fact doesn't change with Axel. He shoots him a glare across the table, throat still stuck with food and cowardice, and that's when he notices the clock above Axel's head.

"Oh shit, fuck, I'm going to be late."

Axel looks surprised at his sudden outburst, actually leans back a bit as Roxas struggles out of the booth, grabs his backpack and jacket in one swift move; and, as an afterthought, takes a long pull of coke from his cup before setting it down with his half finished lunch.

"Look, we'll talk after. My class starts in five and it's a ten minute walk. Call me!"

And with that Roxas leaves, unable and unwilling to catch the look on Axel's face. Because something inside of him is calling him a coward.

----

After Roxas' abrupt departure, Axel heads to the library.

Which is something new in and out of itself. Axel has never recreationally been to the library before, not even in high school. Not even when he was almost failing high school. But there's nothing to do - besides watching TV and jerking off, which gets boring after awhile - so. May as well, he thinks. No late shift tonight, no need for sleep, no nothing to do except head to the library and explore.

The first one he finds is not a big, musty thing that looks thousands of years old, one that looks like it belongs in a high school. Surprisingly, it's on the corner of a city block and is part of the buildings surrounding it. It also looks surprisingly full, from what he can see of the large wall-to-wall windows, and full of books. So Axel goes in because, hey, library. Killing time.

The first thing he does is go to the computers and plop in one. He thinks he could maybe check his myspace account, something he hasn't done in years. Or his email. Or anything, really, because he isn't really big on computers and doesn't really see what the big deal is. So, you can waste time doing interesting things on your couch. Whoopee, he thinks, and then tries to figure out the set up in front of him.

Once he realizes you need a library card and password (after asking the preteen girl next to him. She had kind of sniffed at him like he was stupid and yes, it was kind of obvious, but. What a little bitch), he figures its not meant to be. There is no way in hell he's going to get a library card. One more useless thing with his name on it, some useless account he will never use. Something to carry around and never throw away. No thank you. So he gets up and wanders around.

Somehow he ends up in the fantasy section, which has a few stereotypical nerds and geeks lying about and a couple of hot girls, debating something about which vampire novel was best. Axel could give a shit less about vampires, or elves, or whatever else is in the fantasy section. Or, well. Books in general. Which really defeats the point of going to the library, but quid pro quo: he's replacing boredom for some kind of entertainment.

Axel wanders around for a full hour, just browsing - he even gets a look from the librarian that is so obviously wary that he has to chuckle and shoot her a shit-eating grin, just on principle. She gives him a look that could beat acid and he grins harder but scurries out of view, intent on finding something that could perhaps redeem libraries in his eyes. Maybe a little.

Another ten minutes later he finds it in a downstairs rooms, boasting videos and newspapers and reading machines. Maps.

The first one he sees makes him feel weird in his chest, like something is in reach. He pinpoints that something pretty fast when he flips it open and sees a map of South America, a flat tiny shape that seems planets away.

It's love. Of course it's love, it's been love for years and years. Axel won't say it was love at first sight, because that would be horrible and stupid and atrocious and lying, because it wasn't. It was -

Here Axel pauses in looking over a map (on Sweden now) to think of the first time he thought of Roxas as - his, maybe. His to cherish, even though he had thought at the time that he couldn't cherish him close.

He finally pinpoints it when he thinks about the fifth or sixth time he had babysat them. It was after he had given Sora extra ice cream for punching him. It was when he had given Roxas extra ice cream for no other reason than he wanted to. Roxas hadn't asked, or looked sad, or anything. But the look Roxas had given him after, the quiet happiness and surprise. The way Roxas had scarfed it down, as if he wanted to keep it a secret, just for them.

Axel remembers the way his heart had thudded, deep and hard, and how he had spooned some ice cream for himself because he had felt hot all of a sudden.

Then he realizes he's thinking about when he fell in love with an eight year old boy and blushes a bit, grumbling and secretly calling himself a pervert.

He discards Sweden and thinks, all of a sudden, if this is going to happen I should pick somewhere closer.

It takes him a full minute to find the map of America, which is tattered and worn and looks like it was stamped on a couple of times. When he finds it he wraps it up in his arms and goes to find an empty table, intent on getting to work.

It takes awhile actually, where he thought it would take mere minutes to decide. But things keep on popping up, questions and derisions that make one choice always pale in comparison to another. Would Roxas like California? No, too sunny. New Jersey? Too douche-y. Maybe Washington? Nooo, way too stuck up. San Francisco? Or is that too gay?

It's when he's been through almost every single state, looked through and discarded each one, that it hits him:

New York. They should go to New York.

-----

It's eight at night when Roxas finally sees Axel, knocking on his door with sharp taps to let him know it's him. They've always knocked like that, three quick notes that are like a secret between them.

He hears some cursing from inside, a thump of something against something, and then Axel opens the door, flushed and hair wet. It's faintly erotic, the way he looks, and that thought surprises an awkward smile right out of him. Yes, he has sex with Axel, but -

But what, something grumbles inside of him, so instead of focusing on it he looks at Axel, awkward smile still etched on. "Hey."

Axel grins back at him, simply happy. It makes the awkward smile turn into a sincere one that matches Axel's. That's when he notices he feels faintly giddy, like a schoolgirl talking to a cute boy, and there is no way he is following that train of thought so he just shoves Axel aside playfully (noticing how, for some reason, he lets his hand linger on Axel's shoulder) and steps inside.

It's a little messy, like always - a dirty plate or two on the side table, a pile of jackets and shoes by the door - but there's something new: a couple of white papers on the coffee table, looking freshly printed. He stares pointedly at it, waiting for Axel to see where he's staring, and when he does the redhead blushes slightly. Cute, the voice that had pointed out Axel's eroticism before says, but he ignores that too.

"That's - something." He says finally, a chuckle in his voice. Roxas shoves him again, just for the hell of it, and goes to sit on the couch while Axel heads to the kitchen to make some tea for them.

When Axel comes back - Earl Grey for him, three creams one sweetener, and Masala Chai for Axel, three sugars - Roxas has given into curiosity and looked over the papers spread out. Axel looks at him, smiling while he waits for Roxas' reaction, setting the tea down on the coffee table

"So." Axel says.

"So." Roxas says back, and Axel smile crooks awkwardly because he knows his tone is short and guarded, not anything like five minutes ago, and it's all because of the papers on the table.

Axel sits down beside him and it's awkward because Roxas is - is mad at him, because -

"What's in New York?"

That startles Axel because out of the corner of his eye Roxas can see him turn around and look at him, calculating and hard like Axel usually looks at someone who's asked a question. It's deep, this stare, and Roxas refuses to look at him because Axel is going to abandon him for something. Even if their - their plans weren't solid or anything, not promised on, it still makes him feel angry and stupid for even thinking that Axel would abandon everything for him.

It makes him feel bitter, really, and he knows it shows in every facet of him right now - his tone, his voice, expression, everything. But he can't help it.

Then Axel's hand goes to his shoulder, clasps it tight, and all of a sudden he's facing the big, huge, happy grin of Axel's that always makes him feel happy in return.

He sits there, confused and still feeling bitter and stupid, until Axel's grin widens even further.

"You really think I was going to ditch you, Rox?" He teases, hand still warm on his shoulder, and Roxas aims a scathing look at the redhead for trying to make fun of him in some unknown, weird way. You don't kick those who are down, he thinks.

At the look Axel laughs, loud and bright, and finally says "No, I thought. We could go there."

All of the bitterness and anger drain out of him instantly when he hears those words and all that's left is the stupid feeling, like he should have seen the obvious and maybe - well, hugged Axel for actually looking? Or something?

The embarrassment must show on his face because Axel's hand slides down his arm, catches on his wrist for a split second before he lets go.

"I'm serious, you know. I'm not going to ditch you."

Roxas looks at Axel's face, the full blown joy on it, and thinks this is what love looks like.

"Me too." He says, swallowing, and Axel grins back at him.

For an hour or two or three - Roxas stops counting - they piss around with maps and printed out 'attraction' pages, weigh the pros and cons of living in such a big city with little to no money or brilliance. It all sounds like a wonderful dream, something Roxas can grasp, and throughout the planning he looks at Axel, thinks of so many things that could happen, and thinks:

I'm happy.

And he is, he really is.

Sometime during the discussion about Broadway, right after Roxas does an impersonation of a rather bad actor, Axel barks out a laugh and, quite unexpectedly says "God I love you."

The laughter after that immediately dies, painfully, at the hands of awkwardness because - because.

Axel - well, Roxas knows Axel has loved him. Years and years; had once said 'forever' when Roxas had asked how long. But this is different, something solid and definable, and it… It also makes him happy.

This is a revelation that blows everything out of Roxas' head, and for a second all he can do is stare at Axel with wide eyes while the boy looks away, face red and hands stacking the pages.

It's not a bad thing, the 'I love you', he realizes. It's been years since anyone has ever said something like that to him. Ever since Sora, he knows, and that's another revelation that blows everything out of his head. He hasn't been told 'I love you' for years.

And he hasn't said it, either.

This is when he hears the heart thumping, deep inside his chest, the rhythmic beating that is loud above all else. The elation and the happiness - aren't you supposed to say it when you're happy?

It's that little thing, the supposed to, that makes him open his mouth.

"Axel -"

And his courage all comes crashing down when there's a loud buzzing from the coffee table, his phone vibrating around to a beat that's muted. The awkwardness reaches new heights, and for a second all he can do is stare at it in horror.

"Roxas." Axel says, voice amused.

"Oh, yeah." He picks up the phone and presses 'talk'.

A few minutes later he hangs up, frown etched on his face. He hasn't quite forgotten before his mother called, what he had been about to say, but it seems Axel has - he's already tidying up, shooting a smirk at Roxas' disgruntled expression.

"Mummy want her baby home?" He coos, and Roxas goes out of his way to punch his arm.

"Ow." Axel laughs, and he mutters a shut up at him before standing.

When he walks to the door, all bundled up because of the rain outside, Axel walks with him. It's also normal between them, seeing each other to the door. And Roxas is glad for that for a complete shining second, because when he turns around Axel is standing right there, a small smile on his face as he watches Roxas zip up his coat.

"See you, ya?" Axel says, and it's that that makes Roxas want to -

He bites his lip and says fuck it before grabbing Axel by his shirt and pulling him down for a kiss.

It's a chaste thing, a goodbye peck on the lips. But, at the same time, it is so intimate and lovely that Roxas smiles into it before pulling away.

When he gets a good look at Axel's face, backing up, it all seems worth it - the redhead looks dazed, completely out of it, and it puts a good feeling in his stomach to know that he put it there.

"Ya, see you." He says, cheeky and unable to help it, and closes the door behind him.

------

When Roxas closes the door, quietly as if afraid to break the atmosphere, Axel stares after him for a full five minutes before rushing to the window and pushing the curtains back, looking for something that he isn't sure he's looking for.

The blond is gone, of course. It's not like Axel was expecting him to wait outside his window, a big shy grin on his face.

Nevertheless, he stares outside for a second before he falls onto the couch, laughing - he's that happy.

-------

"Roxas?"

It's his mother at the doorway, poised finely and like a rich woman. It's something she'll never stop doing, Roxas figures - acting like big money. Nothing new. But there's something different - she looks happier, different. Excited. That's something that never happens. At once he's wary, unsure of what is going on. He turns around in his chair, putting his charcoal down over the half-finished sketch. "Yes?"

She takes another step into his room, the click of one shoe loud against the floorboards. She's still smiling happily. He surveys her face, tries to see any connection to his own. There's the nose, yes. And the jaw line. But her expression and everything else is different.

"I just wanted to tell you that we're moving."

This makes Roxas rise up a bit, set his shoulders a little straighter. They had just moved, Christ, not even six months ago? That had been like hell, moving everything back and forth and up and down and then going through everything - the old pictures of the family, Sora's signed blitz ball, the old Harry Potter book Xion left behind. And not only that, Roxas doesn't want to be disappointed again. What kind of house could be worse than this?

"We just moved! Are we going to move into The Nash, now?" Roxas scowls. He's aware he's acting like a bratty teenager, but lo and behold - he is a bratty teenager.

His mother gives him a dirty look for The Nash comment. The Nash is one of those pay-by-the-hour motels, is notorious for the lack of security, the drug deals and the prostitutes. It's probably the epitome of all that is decrepit and graceless.

She seems to ignore it otherwise though, her face taking on that happy glow again.

"No, we're moving to another city. In a week."

This -

This freezes the blood in his body and makes him snap to attention. There is no way they can be moving to another city. No way. The disbelief is crying out at him, yelling to scream at his mother and ask if she's joking and if so, why the fuck she would think it's funny. There's no way they can be moving, At least -

"How far?! Like, to the next city?" He says, almost breathless with the news. She looks at him like he's odd and he can already imagine her thinking process, wondering what's wrong with her only son and why he sounds so out of place.

That expression, too, is wiped out for the happy one. This one is even more exuberant, as if she thinks he'll like her next words, automatically cheer for her and her wonderful ideas and the wonderful city. But the next words- he can hear his heart falling.

"We're moving to New York, New York! The Big Apple. Won't you like that?"

It's the name that strikes him most. It's that which makes him suck in his breath, make his vision white with being overwhelmed.

And then a tacked-on question registers, and it wipes the whiteness away and replaces it with a sudden, whirling anger. Who wants to move to New York? Who wants to leave behind all they they've known and love for some stupid little exciting city that's full of itself? He doesn't want to leave Sora's grave behind, or his friends, or -

He doesn't want to leave Axel behind. This is what, perhaps, makes him angriest.

"No, I won't fucking like that!" He snarls, and the cussing makes her seem to step back and to wash the happiness off her face, to replace it with surprise. "I don't want to fucking move! I don't want to fucking leave my friends, my school, my -" and here he chokes, unsure of what to call Axel; and before she can recover, can say anything else, his face twists ugly and instead of 'Axel' he says "My brother."

Her face shudders closed at that, the surprise and rebuttal melting away like snow in fire. She does take a step back, seemingly physically stricken with those words. It's at that that Roxas think he's maybe won. That maybe, just maybe, they won't move, that they'll stay. That she'll stay, and that maybe he could go. With Axel.

Her closed expression gets even more closed but her voice is angry and final, and that's when Roxas realizes he could have never won.

"We're moving to New York, Roxas, and that's final."

And then she slams the door, and that's that. Roxas is left staring at it, fingers smudged with charcoal and an empty feeling in his heart.

And - because he is a coward, and an idiot, and worthless - he just turns back around to his art and scribbles all over it, makes the sunset turn to black, smoggy skies and the rest of it worthless scenery.

And - he never calls Axel. Because he is a coward.

---

(beep)

"Hey, Roxas, buddy, pick up your phone. I bought the map today, thought you might want to check it out. Yanno, be anal about it. Call me back."

(beep)

"Man, it's been like, three days since I talked to you. Left that message I mean. Whatever. Call me back."

(beep)

"Ok, look. I'm - a little drunk, ok, which is the only way I can do this, but, man, are you - are you chickening out? Cuz - it's, like. You don't need to avoid me. Just, c'mon. I wouldn't - ok, I would have been a little mad, but. Man, just -"

(beep)

"Call me, Roxas."

(beep)

"Man, look, it's Axel… of course it's me. Anyway, I'm worried. I went by your house today, it was empty. Man, just. Call me."

(beep)

"… Roxas…"

(beep)

"Roxas?"

(beep)

"Roxas, you…"

(beep)

We're sorry, but the number you are trying to reach is no longer in service. Please hang up, and try your call again. We're sorry, but the number you are trying to reach is no longer in service. Please hang up, and try your call again. We're sorry….

(beep, beep, beep)

--------------

It's been something like eight months since Roxas left - eight months and some days. Axel stopped counting because counting does nothing for him except bring back old memories that make him ache inside and out.

He's in the grocery store, and there's some song playing - this one goes out to the one I love, this one goes out to the one I left behind. Sweat slides down from his temple. His shirt clings to him unpleasantly, like it could become sentient if it just hugged him hard enough. There are too many versions of peanut butter to choose from. He just got fired from his fifth job in as many months because he missed the morning shift sleeping in.

All in all, it's a crappy day, and he shouldn't even be listening to love-lost songs playing on the radio.

He picks some crunchy stuff with an owl on it - some no-name, not well known brand - and traipses to the next aisle as Zeppelin springs out from the radio. It's a nice change in pace, definitely an improvement from that bullshit love song.

Things are getting better, though - he can listen to love songs instead of turning them off viciously, like he's trying to punch in the radio's button or twist off the dial. Food tastes better, and sex is even getting interesting again. The other night, Axel had sex with this pretty brunet girl, had her ride him and he actually came. It was great. In the morning, she had used the last of his peanut butter for a sandwich. She left her name and number on her counter. It was why he was out now, craving it for no particular reason.

Sometimes, he muses while staring at the too many selections of ketchup, it still ached. A deep, soulful ache, like someone (he still doesn't like saying who - things may be getting better but they ain't optimal) had taken their hands and scooped out a part of his soul to hold. Sometimes he drank until he couldn't see if it was dark or light out. Sometimes he drank so he could sleep.

That was the damndest thing - the lack of sleep, the new sleep schedule, the ability to keep his eyes open until he literally dropped from exhaustion. For the first few weeks he couldn't even coax his eyes closed to stop the burning. He couldn't sleep - felt like he wasn't supposed to, like doing so would take away from the moments that some little blond thing would come through that door and see him. As if that little blond thing would leave and never come back if he saw him sleeping.

He also couldn't admit that he didn't want to sleep. For those last few weeks he never slept alone, had been warm throughout the inside of his body.

Now though - he could sleep. He could sleep without the bottom of the bottle staring at him, and he could even crawl into bed when he just felt like a nap, but only sometimes. Like after bad days.

The first few months were the worst for the drinking - nothing could stop him at night. Most of his pay check went towards alcohol or some things he thought he'd never try. His electricity got cut off; his lease was being threatened. At one point Axel thought of selling his bed.

That's what got him - the looking around his apartment and seeing no couch or coffee table, just a kitchen chair and a big pile of blankets, stripped from his bed in the next room over. He still had his TV, with no image since there was no electricity. Still had a fridge with some food in it, some dishes and cutlery in the cupboards. But he wasn't gonna live like this, and his mama didn't teach him to live like that either. So he had changed that. He had gotten a job in a convenience store down the street as a night shift worker and had gotten a loan to pay off all the bills. Had stopped going to the bars for awhile to avoid all the one night stands and awkward morning-afters. He'd also taken up welding as a pastime for fuck's sake, calling on an old favour from his mother's old boyfriend.

And then there he was. Not perfect, far from it, but functional. Working.

But there was something still missing. There was a lack of fulfillment. He didn't know what to do with himself anymore. He had his friends, sure - tons now, since the bars were a great place to meet people and the people he had ignored before always understood heartbreak - but nothing else. He wasn't looking for someone else, either. It was just - a lack of something. He was empty.

He scowls at the ketchup bottles and grabs one savagely - something expensive he realizes at the checkout. Way too expensive, and a brand he doesn't even like. He smiles apologetically at the girl when he asks her to retract it. She smiles politely - strained as it is - and he's on his way, sans ketchup.

It's on his way home that he reflects some more, thinks about the emptiness, the misplaced anger, and sometimes - ok, most of the time - the loneliness. Never ending, really, all a crock of bullshit, and then he realizes he's being an emo sack of shit and scowls even further.

"Sir?"

He stops at that, considers giving them shit for calling him 'Sir' because, what in the ever loving fuck he does not look that old, thank you. He was 23 for Christ's sake.

"What?" His tone, which is short, drifts off when he looks into the kind eyes of a young woman. Short brown hair, no make-up, the kind of face that is all natural and plain in a beautiful kind of way. There's also a uniform - a green one. An army one, he realizes, and in her hand there is a flyer.

Her smile doesn't drop, even at his short tone. Instead, she looks even kinder and ready to hand out help. For some reason this makes Axel feel less empty.

"I was just wondering," She continues, "If you ever wondered about joining the army?"

In her hand she pushes a pamphlet towards him - it has three people on it, two men and a woman, looking proud and patriotic with a US flag waving in the background. It's all kind of sickening to him, the whole pride thing, but he guess it's because he hasn't ever had anything to be proud of.

"Not really." He answers honestly, and she laughs at that.

"Well, it's never a bad time to start." She says, and he surprises himself by taking the pamphlet.

He thinks about it for a second, about doing something completely different. Completely new and out of his realm of thinking. Travelling the world and maybe getting rid of some of the anger. Maybe fill that hole somehow.

He swallows the lump in his throat at the sudden thought and the absolute need that washes over him.

This could be what he needs, he thinks.

"Where can I find more information?"

She smiles, wide, at him. "You can come in for a talk right now, or you can book an appointment, or you could visit our website. There's many options. We could even talk it over right here, if you want."

He licks his lips. "Yeah. I think I'd like that."

One day, Roxas comes back.

He's older - twenty years old, now, just turned. Another year until he can go out to the clubs and drink legally, even if in the past three years his age hasn't really stopped him in anything.

The first thing he does is go to 7-Eleven because he thinks that, even if no one will recognize him, he doesn't want to seem -

Doesn't want to seem desperate.

He buys some smokes - Bensen & Hedges Super Slims, and they look like joints - and a lighter, a red one; the girl asks for ID so he flashes his real one and she smiles at him and hands him his debit card back, and the whole upshot of it is that she really reminds him of Xion, but with red hair, so he puts in the wrong PIN number and apologizes, saying he thought he had enough. She just smiles again, this time more tightly, and waves him off with a 'good day'.

He doesn't even smoke. He doesn't know why he tried buying a pack.

The second place he visits is Sora's grave, remembering the car that hit him. It was an old truck, really ratty looking. Something Axel would drive. Something like Axel did drive, never mind, and for a split second he has a horrified vision of Axel, sixteen year old Axel with his scraggly hair and clean cheeks, veering down the road towards Sora, who was dribbling a soccer ball down the street. But he remembers the guy who hit Sora, who deliberately veered towards him and pinned his brother beneath his wheels and laughed and laughed and laughed. He remembers, but the memory leaves a bitter taste in his mouth, like blood. Like the taste of hatred and defeat.

He leaves a carnation, stolen from a grave marked 'We'll Miss Her: Our Beloved Reta', and walks away with the taste still in his mouth.

The next place he visits is his dad's house - his dad, who still lives there because Roxas sees a flash of his brown hair in the living room window. He's too scared to go in, though, so he doesn't. He's come to terms with the fact that he's a coward when it comes to people he loves.

The fourth, fifth, and six places are as follows:

4) Axel's house, which has a blonde woman out front gardening. He doesn't go there, either, because it's just a confirmation that Axel's moved and it's going to be a lot harder to find him.

5) The bar that Axel worked at, which has turned into a grill house. It's a lot fancier than it was a couple of years ago, and he grabs a drink to calm his nerves with his fake ID. This time, he does get his PIN right.

6) The hospital, because he doesn't know where else to check. When he enters the doors, the smell of sickness and cleanliness attack his nose and, again, the taste of defeat and hatred sit on his tongue like grime. Below that, fear, but Roxas tries to ignore that as best he can.

The seventh place he visits is a restaurant in the bottom level of a department store, which is a cheap little place that won't cost him much. He gets a BLT and a small basket of fries for seven dollars, plus a cup of water, and is surprised it tastes as good as it does. He eats there for two hours and considers staying longer. Decides not to because the old woman running the till keeps on giving him the evil eye.

The eighth place he visits is a bar, unhappy and exhausted and he feels like he hasn't been this sleep deprived since - since when he was sixteen. Seventeen.

They let him in without asking for his ID because he looks older, he guesses. Or it's a shitty bar. He's guessing it's a shitty bar because half the patrons look like they're not even eighteen. He feels old here of all things.

He's nursing his fourth beer - beer he doesn't even like, thank you very much - when the bartender slides up to him across the counter and gives him a friendly, bored smile.

"You look like you need another drink." He states, fingers tapping a tattoo against the counter.

Roxas looks up at him, and feels - something. Something, which is weird, because it isn't a bad feeling. This town is all about bad feelings for Roxas.

"It's been a bad day." He says cautiously, tipping his head forward in agreement; the bartender's grin widens, and a hand goes to swipe across his hair - it's a weird style. Roxas doesn't really know how to describe it. It kind of looks like a crappy Mohawk, if anything, with it's soft spikes and lazy tendrils of hair falling down the back of his neck.

The odd man laughs, a little breathy snort that conveys more amusement than enjoyment. He leans up and his hand goes under the counter, bring up a glass - this one has a spot on it, and once they both notice it his hands disappear under the counter again and come away with a clean one.

Before the man can ask what kind of poison he wants, he tips his mostly empty glass forward and says "Surprise me."

A grin flickers on the man's face and then he's off making the drink - it involves an amber liquid and a green one. Roxas catches the word 'margarita mix' on the bottle with the green stuff in it before he pours it into a tumbler; next, the amber liquid goes into a shot glass. It's finished off when the man drops the shot glass into the tumbler and asks for five dollars.

Roxas slides it over without any qualm - he probably actually should get at least fifty cents back - and when he tips the glass into his mouth the liquids mix on his tongue. It's surprisingly sweet, and sugary, and a pretty girly drink. It reminds him of -

"Skittles."

The bartender grins at the word, takes the glass back and shuffles over to the sink. "Yeah, good guess. S'not one of the most popular choices but it's pretty delicious, really."

The taste is still sweet on his tongue, and it makes it almost numb. It feels heavy.

The only reason he knows it's called a Skittles is because it's what Axel made him that one night.

"Did you ever know a guy named Axel? Red hair, tattoos on his face?" Roxas goes for casual, voice dripping with nonchalance. He tries to go for normal, as if it's an everyday thing to ask some random person about another random person. It is normal, he thinks. He needs to think that, anyway, just so he can ask.

The bartender's face isn't what he expected though - he was expecting confusion, a shake of the head, or, if he was lucky, a big grin and a 'yeah, yeah, I know him!'. He was expecting either a good response or a negative one.

His face though - it shutters closed and there's a sad smile slowly spreading over his face. It's a face of reminiscence and Roxas starts feeling like something is breaking down inside of him.

"Axel, Axel. Yeah, I knew him. Great guy." The man says, head nodding slowly; he slides the glasses he cleaned under the counter with a clink and a small thump, and his shoulders seem to droop.

Nothing else is said for a few seconds, the silence stretching awkwardly. Roxas doesn't know what to say that wouldn't be totally rude, that wouldn't be totally out-of-the-blue and suspicious. He comes up with nothing after another minute; time stretches. The bartender is looking around for other people and Roxas knows it's either shit or get off the pot, as Axel once said.

"Um, where is he now? Do you know?" It doesn't come out as suspiciously as Roxas thought it would be, but for good measure he adds "I'm an old friend. I, uh, sat beside him." Then, wildly, "on the plane."

The guy is either too trusting or too stupid to ask questions, but his face just gets sadder and sadder and sadder and this makes that breaking sound in his body ring in his ears like church bells.

"Well, I don't know."

This isn't actually too bad - Roxas was expecting news of death, some horrible accident. Roxas has always been surrounded by horrible accidents - he wouldn't be surprised. It would be his luck. It would be Axel's luck, he thinks, maybe.

"Last I heard, he was still MIA in Iraq."

The relief in Roxas' hearts stutters, so slowly Roxas isn't sure he heard correctly; the stark heartbreak on his face must show because the man's face goes surprised and slack.

"Oh, fuck, you didn't know? Fuck, aw, man, I'm so sorry -"

Roxas clears his throat because there is nothing else he can think of doing - it's either that or leave. He refuses to cry in front of anyone.

"Wh-" He clears his throat again and looks down into the bottom of his empty beer bottle. "When?"

"A year and a half ago, man." The man nods and spreads his hand across the countertop. His fingers are short and chewed on; Roxas eyes them, tries to make them his whole world. "He was three months into six or something, his crew was blasted takin' some cargo to a little village. S'all I heard last."

Roxas nods again and tries to imagine where those fingers have been. Where they were when he heard of Axel, missing in some foreign country.

"Man, I'm totally sorry. Let me get you a drink?"

The fingers move off the countertop and Roxas' illusion shatters and the breaking feeling comes back, ringing so loudly in his ears.

"No," he murmurs, sliding off the high stool. "No, no, it's ok."

"Man -" The bartender says, but Roxas is shuffling over to the door already, the music nothing against the sound inside of him.

When Roxas gets back to his car, he drives - he drives and drives and drives because he knows if he goes to bed he won't be able to sleep.

In the morning Roxas goes to Axel's old house again and, upon closer inspection, sees that it's mostly well taken care of. The windows are clean and there's a little box garden in front. There's even a mail box with fancy script that says 'The Sholdice's', which Roxas thinks is a real weird thing to do. It's a small house. It's.

It's Axel's house, still, and Roxas can still remember the inside.

He makes a decision because there isn't anything else he can do; there's a key knife in his pocket, and that's what makes up his mind, so he walks up to the house, stands in front of the blue wooden paneling, and takes out the small blade.

It takes a long while, and by the time Roxas is finished his fingers are cramping and his arm burns from holding it up for so long. He's surprised that no one has come out to stop him, but, then again, it's two o'clock in the afternoon. Everyone must be at work. If Axel still lived here, he'd be asleep, compliant and content against his scratchy sheets.

He stalls when it comes to writing his name, though, unsure of the convictions it takes to do so. Because, really, how many Roxas' are in this town?

In the end, though, he does, carves his name with careful precision because if Axel ever comes there, ever even thinks about stopping by his old house in the hope of - of something, he'll know. At least.

So he writes his name, and when he's done he walks away because there is nothing else he can do.

The paneling gets thrown away because the man of the house is practical and his wife is the compliant kind, even though she thinks it's sweet. It's replaced by the cheap plastic stuff, since it's a good time to replace the old wood of the house, and is painted tan. But on the thrown away piece of wood it says:

Axel

All I can say is I love you, even though I've never said it before. I've loved you before I was eight, before I was born, and sometimes I think we must have been meant for each other because we're tragic. We're Romeo and Romero, two boys caught up in love, I guess.

That was pathetically poetic I know, but I don't know what else to say. I can say I'm selfish, even though I know you'll disagree, even if you know I am. I could say I'm sorry, but I know it wouldn't mean anything. I could say I love you again, but I know you're never gonna see this. I hope you do, but. I know you won't.

There's nothing I can do and nothing I can say and I feel inadequate and I wish you were here. I want to spend the rest of my life with you but your life might have already ended.

But.

But, in the end, I guess that's not enough, right?

-Roxas