A/N: Lately I've liked the RoxasXZexion pairing for absolutely no reason. I found some fanart of it after randomly drawing one tiny piece of my own, and suddenly I'm looking up fanfiction for it and find myself loving it. Especially if AkuDemy is the side-pairing. Thus, I decided to write my own little oneshot series, just to play around with this pairing more.

(There will be ten of these oneshots, in case you were wondering.)

But I must say, there are too many pairing names: Roxion, RokuZeku, ZekuRoku, Zexas… Yeah. Too many, LOL. XD

This first drabble was inspired by a fanart I found on dA by Rynies, called: "Roxion Summer." Search it. It's a beautiful fanart! (It's very shiny and adorable~)

.:Beach:.

Laughing, Roxas runs out of the shallow, warm seawater away from his friends Axel and Demyx. The two are currently locked in an epic water-battle, complete with squirt guns and kicks and slaps to the water's surface in order to get the other soaked.

The blond plops down in the sand, his green shorts riding up. He tugs them down and wipes salty droplets from his face as his hair begins to dry in the sun. Sucking in the dry, hot air, Roxas glances to his left to observe more of the redhead's and other blond's battle, as well as to sneak a peak at the other beach-goers.

Some kids from school are here. Roxas knows some of them by name. Sora and Kairi: two people from his neighborhood that have been friends for nearly as long as the two have been going out. Riku and Xion: an odd couple who met this year in choir, and have been together ever since. And then there's Xemnas and Saix, two friends that sometimes don't get along, and are two of the most popular seniors at school, simply because the two win almost every football game with their teamwork. There is also one other person Roxas spots from school: Naminé, a quiet, shy girl who appears to be drawing a picture of the ocean in oil pastels from her safe perch on the dock.

He smiles at the scene, because he feels comfortable here. He adores the beach; something new occurs each time that he comes here.

Glancing to his right this time, Roxas spots someone else: one of his close friends, Zexion. Frowning, the blond pushes himself to his feet, dusts the sand from his bottom and paces over to the lone boy. Zexion is reading. Why is he reading when the entire beach is open to him?

"Zexion," Roxas says as he takes a seat beside the older boy. "What are you doing over here by yourself?"

Roxas is a freshman, whereas Zexion is a junior like Axel. But Zexion looks like he could be a freshman, too; he is very short. But don't say that to him. He'll turn pink and tell you one of your own flaws. After all, Zexion is very observant.

But Roxas is observant, too; when he bothers to be.

"I'm reading, clearly," Zexion responds mildly. His voice is more hushed than usual, and either he has sunburn or he's blushing, because at the moment Roxas can't stop staring at the stripe of pink across the silvery-blue haired boy's cheeks.

"I meant: why are you all alone? Why don't you get in the water, or mess around with Axel and Demyx and me? We miss having you with us. You're not always like this."

"And we're not always at the beach," Zexion retorts as he places his finger in his book to hold his place and turns to look Roxas in the face. He knows that there is about to be an argument, like there usually is between them. "I'm not situated well when I'm at the beach. I'm out of my element."

"Then why did you agree to come with us, if you knew you wouldn't be doing anything?" Roxas tosses back, his arms folding over his chest.

The poet (Zexion is very talented with poetry; he wins the school-wide contest every year, ever since it began in middle school) shakes his head. "It is nothing of importance." His tone says, 'It's none of your business. I'm here, aren't I? So stop complaining.'

Roxas scowls. "Stop it, Zexion. I hate it when you get like this. Why can't you just loosen up and have fun like the rest of us?"

The older boy looks away. He shuts his book completely, using a feather lying nearby as a bookmark. Then, suddenly, casts his gaze back on Roxas, succeeding in burning the blond's insides with such intensity in the eye contact. "Because I am not like the rest of you. I have reason for my seclusion, and I try to keep my solitude, but you and Axel and Demyx seem not to care and seem to do everything you can to force me into your group. But I am tired of it."

The blond blinks slowly and drops his arms from his chest only to grab a fistful of sand. "Well, fine! If you're tired of it, then I guess I'll tell the guys that you hate them, and hate me, and that they should alienate you. How does that sound?" he spits out, and something quivers within him, something as hard and heavy and cold as a stone. He doesn't like fighting with Zexion; it feels wrong.

Zexion swallows shallowly, and blinks a couple times. "That's exactly what I want," he says softly, and Roxas can tell that it is a lie.

Roxas sighs disdainfully; how can Zexion act like this? It's stupid. "Stop it," he demands through grit teeth. "I can tell that you're not actually angry. Something else is eating at you. Look… I'm sorry that I got so accusatory. I didn't mean to. I just don't like seeing you by yourself. So let's pretend that fight never happened, because we obviously both didn't mean it, and let me ask you one last thing: What's wrong?"

Zexion is always surprised by Roxas's moments of kindness or understanding. It reminds him of a brunet he's seen around, a freshman like Roxas who happens to be tackling Zexion's cousin Riku at this very moment. He sighs and looks down at the sand between them. There is a piece of driftwood lying at his feet. He picks it up and draws something in the tannish-yellow grains.

"This is what's wrong," he murmurs, always straightforward. He refuses to look Roxas in the eyes.

Roxas stares at the drawing. It's a heart. An outline of the symbol for love and other emotions, but Roxas knows that none of the other emotions are the ones being said here. He looks up at Zexion with wide blue eyes. It hadn't been sunburn on he boy's face; if it had, it couldn't have let and then come back again, like it's doing now. Zexion is embarrassed. And he's only acting petulant because he's in love with someone.

A little 'O' forms on Roxas's lips. He lowers his voice and scoots a hair closer, careful not to harm the little drawing. "So that's why. The person you like is here today. Right?"

A little unsurely, Zexion nods. His face appears nonchalant, but Roxas can see the fragments of emotion flicker in the poet's eyes.

"Who is it? Maybe I can help you."

"You can't help, Roxas," Zexion mutters as he keeps his gaze on the heart drawn in the sand.

"I beg to differ. Come on, let me guess: it's Demyx. Am I right?"

"No," Zexion states simply. "Too annoying."

"Axel?" he tries again.

"No; too much of an asshole. And why do you keep guessing solely males?"

The spiky-haired blond shrugs. Zexion never seemed like the heterosexual type to Roxas. He tries one last time with he only other person Zexion knows well enough to be in love with. "Is it me? Am I the one you like?"

Zexion visibly freezes, his muscles tense all over. He stares at his purple and blue swimming trunks. He nibbles the inside of his lip prior to replying in a barely audible voice, "Yes."

The silvery-blue haired boy doesn't know what to expect upon confessing. He simply awaits Roxas's response.

"Oh, I see," Roxas murmurs gently. "That accounts for a few things that you've been doing around me lately." He pauses, and mimics one of Zexion's signature poses: he puts his hand to his chin in thought, his finger skimming his bottom lip. "Hmm. This poses as a problem."

"Why?" Zexion dares to ask, his stomach churning in anxiety. He has never been very good with emotions. "Why is this a problem?"

Zexion thought of the possibilities: it's a problem because Roxas is straight. It's a problem because Roxas likes someone else. It's a problem because Roxas thinks they work better as friends. It's a problem because Roxas is secretly dating somebody. The list of possibilities doesn't cease its nagging in Zexion's mind, and he finds himself growing even more tense.

But then, thankfully, Roxas does something: he drops his hand from his chin and smiles. "It's a problem because I want to do something, but I'm afraid of what everybody else will think."

While Zexion puzzles over this for two seconds, his eyebrows furrowing and his lower lip tightening against his upper one, Roxas plans to carry out the action anyhow. He closes the distance between them by kneeling in front of Zexion, and then proceeds to lean forward and kiss the older boy.

Zexion is no longer puzzled. His eyes fall shut and he hums in surprise for a moment prior to succumbing to Roxas's intent and moving his lips along Roxas's. They can feel the compatibility between them as Roxas lowers Zexion to lay in the sand by applying pressure to his shoulder, his other hand behind the silvery-blue head. Zexion's own hand on Roxas's hip, his other lying curled, useless, off to the side.

The two don't stop until they are panting and their tongues are parting from a wild dance, onlookers either giggling or looking away in disgust.

In the distance, Naminé smiles and finishes the touches on a new pencil sketch. She loves the beach; something new occurs each time she comes here.