For as long as he could remember, Roxas was always put below the rest of the world. He wore nothing more than the meager rags he could afford, riddled with holes and stains, and the dirt perpetually smeared upon his skin. As a child, he would wander the streets with his mother, clutching one of her hands desperately with both of his. He never went to school. Never made a friend. Never amounted to anything but a trembling mess of terrified, uncertain nerves. All he had was his mother, who grew thinner and thinner each day, but never failed, by the end of each night, to find a safe haven for them to curl up together and sleep.

Until, of course, Roxas woke to find her gone.

It was a young boy with eyes like the sky and hair the same as chocolate silk who awoke him this fateful day, who ushered him eagerly into the building Roxas had been huddled against, in the crook of the alley. Dazed and undoubtedly alone, Roxas obeyed without resistance. He wasn't educated, but he was smart where it counted for a boy like him. He knew she was gone. And he found that he wasn't surprised.

As it happened, the home the boy was inviting him into was an orphanage, and Roxas was welcomed with open arms. He was introduced to a number of people. There was Hayner, who was older and more experienced and always teasing him about this or that. And Pence, always with a snack in his hand and a grin plastered to his face, one of the friendliest of the orphanage. Olette, too, one of the only girls the orphanage catered to, and for it, most of the chores were dumped on her.

Then, of course, was Sora. The boy who had found Roxas. And maybe it was because Sora had been the one to retrieve Roxas from the rubble, but the two formed a special bond nobody else could explain. At first, it was because Roxas had emotionally shut down from being abandoned, and could only instinctively cling to the nearest person available: Sora. And so he followed Sora like a puppy, doing what Sora did, sleeping with Sora, eating with Sora, obeying Sora, playing with Sora. Timid and tiny for his age, days went without Roxas uttering a single sound.

Only about a week after Roxas had been living at the orphanage, realized that maybe he had found a home, did he properly introduce himself to Sora. And Sora gave him a wide grin, exclaimed something in delighted excitement, and gave him an embrace that threw Roxas' senses across the room. All he knew was how warm he felt. How happy. So unbearably happy.

After that, he and Sora became best friends. Roxas forgot about life on the streets; all that mattered was Sora. Occasionally, the older and bigger kids would pick on Roxas - because of his size, his silence, his feminine build. And Sora would always stand up for him. A number of times, the brunette received black eyes and bloodied lips for defending his little blonde friend, and Roxas, distraught and touched, would always nurture him back to full health.

It was a love between brothers like no other. Inseparable. Undying.

Doomed.

Because Roxas was indeed a pretty boy. With long, thick eyelashes he didn't understand fluttered a particularly irresistible way when he blinked like that. And wide eyes like blue stars that shone with such innocence whether he was smiling or crying, that made one wish to hold and protect him from harm. His slight frame and the delicateness with which he walked and handled things. A slight voice, not one deep or unfittingly high, but a soft medium tenor that sometimes trembled as he spoke when he was nervous. Touchable, pale skin, smooth and pretty, rosy at the cheeks when he blushed, which was frequent, and a pale pink at his lips.

And it wasn't long before the boys and girls at Destiny Orphanage began to act a little peculiar around Roxas. Not making fun so much anymore, but poking and prodding. Giving winks and stealing touches, trying to get Roxas alone. And Roxas never quite understood it, merely thought he was the butt of the joke, and everyone was laughing at his expense. And as Sora grew more protective, as the years passed, Roxas didn't quite put two together and he never wondered why.

Sora was simply his big brother, no questions asked.

The harassment meant Sora found more opportunities for them to spend time together anyway. They would hide themselves in the downstairs cellar closet or lounge on the roof because Sora had figured out how to get the tricky door to open. Mostly, Roxas loved it when Sora took them to the park. He loved the grass, the fresh air, the flowers, the trees, the openness, the sky. He would take it all in and smile and laugh. And he would forget all the worries he could have ever had.

Things started changing around the time Sora turned eighteen. He was only a few months older than Roxas, but the day Sora became an adult…he became a different person. Not entirely. He was still a jokester, still protective, still affectionate and loving with Roxas. But his smile wasn't quite right, and he could never exactly relax. Roxas tried to tell himself he was just imaging it, that he should just be glad Sora was allowed to stay. Most of the guys had to leave once they turned eighteen. Some of them stayed. And Roxas was just happy he didn't have to say goodbye.

Until, of course, the day came.

When Roxas turned eighteen.

He woke to the hushed cry of his name and hands shaking him by his shoulders. His eyes snapped open immediately, though not able to see in the darkness, and he pulled himself upright with a soft groan. It was nearly pitch black, with only the light shining from beneath the door giving him anything to see by. He could make out subtle outlines - of his bed, his lamp…Sora. Those blue eyes were frantic, glowing in the dark.

"Sora?" he murmured, still half-asleep. He tried rubbing it from his eyes, but Sora was grabbing his arms and yanking him from the bed. Naturally, he tripped and stumbled, and would have fallen if Sora had not caught him. "Hey! What's wrong?"

"Sh," Sora hissed, letting him go so he could grab something from the bedside table and shove it into Roxas' hands. "Get dressed. Hurry."

Roxas knew that tone. Whatever was going on, it was too important to waste time with questions. He nodded and obeyed, stripping out of pajama pants and pulling up the soft khaki pants Sora had chosen for him. The room was silent around them. None of the other boys were awake, but there was something in the air that made Roxas shudder nervously. It was a heavy pressure, like static charging before a storm. As he tugged the t-shirt over his head, Sora bent over to shove his feet into shoes, nearly toppling Roxas over in the process. He squeaked as he fell against the bed, but was only hushed hastily again.

"What's going on?" Roxas whined, as Sora hurriedly tied the second shoe and pulled Roxas back to his feet. As Sora dragged him to the door, Roxas whispered, "Sora?"

"You can't talk, Rox," Sora warned, before opening the door quietly and leading Roxas into the hallway. Roxas winced as the light struck his eyes suddenly, but when his vision cleared, he noticed something peculiar.

Sora wasn't dressed.

Roxas had to bite his lip, because he so desperately wanted to ask Sora why Roxas was dressed and why Sora was still in his night clothes, but he had been told not to speak, and he wanted to obey. He wanted to please his beloved, dear Sora, who always protected him. All his life, obeying was the one thing that he could do right. So he kept quiet as Sora guided him warily through the vacant halls, down the stairs, right to the building's side door - the one that Roxas thought didn't open.

But Sora shoved it open and yanked Roxas into the small alleyway between the orphanage and its neighboring building. The space was small and cramped, with barely enough room for Roxas and Sora to fit. Roxas winced as rain doused him the instant he stepped outside. Hair suddenly plastered to his forehead, clothing clinging to his skin, Roxas covered his eyes and peered at Sora, who was busy forcing the door back into place. Sora turned, equally soaked, and squinted at him through the rain for a long moment.

"Come on!" he shouted, just loud enough to be heard over the thundering rain, grabbing Roxas' hand and dashing toward the back of the building.

The block the orphanage was on was full of business buildings and different types of small, miscellaneous stores. Every building was cramped and close to the one beside it, with barely enough room to squeeze between them. Because of this, most of the buildings were back to back, too. However, behind the orphanage was a small parking lot enclosed by fifteen-foot-walls; the only entrances to the parking lot were the back door of the orphanage, the side alley, and the ominous gate with "No Trespassing" signs that led to the street behind the orphanage. Often times, the children of the orphanage would come out and play in the little parking lot, and none of them had ever seen that gate open and had never seen a soul even acknowledge that it was there. To Roxas, it was a secret. It wasn't really a parking lot, because it wasn't ever used as one.

But tonight, it was. The gate to the adjacent street was open wide, and a U-haul was parked, headlights glowing dimly against the fog of rain and engine purring over the heavy pattering. The back of the truck was drawn up and open, and Roxas' jaw fell open at the sight of boys - boys he knew from the orphanage - climbing one by one into the back of the van. Other men dotted the crowd, seeming to be something like supervisors, watching the boys carefully with eyes like cold stones. Inside the van, the boys huddled together, shivering from the cold. Most of them were dressed, but only barely, as if they had been rushed out of bed. Like Roxas.

"You have to go with them!" Sora shouted in his ear. Roxas knew that between the rain and the truck, nobody would be able to hear anything they said. He could barely hear Sora himself - and he knew he couldn't have possibly heard correct.

"What?" he mouthed, not able to summon the strength to yell. Sora took him by the shoulders and stared him down.

"Listen to me!" he commanded, and Roxas nodded. He obeyed. "You can't stay at the orphanage anymore, Rox! You have to go with those guys, and as soon as the door opens again, you run like hell, okay? Run far away and find yourself a new home!"

"But Sora!" Roxas whined, pouting when Sora shook his head at him.

"Trust me, Rox!" Sora demanded, glaring at him hard until Roxas answered with a hesitant, but determined nod. He would obey. His eyes burned and his throat stung, but he nodded. Because he did trust Sora, and he wanted to make him happy. "Good boy."

Sora embraced him suddenly, clutching him tightly, face buried in Roxas' shoulder. Roxas didn't know what was going on, but he didn't pass up the opportunity to hold Sora, the one who always understood, who was always there. Who loved him because nobody else would.

He held him with all he could, until Sora suddenly pulled away and pressed his warm lips right to his forehead.

"Happy birthday, Rox," he whispered, before pushing him out of the alley, and into the crowd of other orphans.

Roxas stumbled, but caught himself on the shoulder of one of the boys, who looked just as scared as Roxas. They steadied each other and merged with the others, too shaken to ask questions or resist the flow that steadily brought them to the back of the U-haul. Roxas was so short, shaking so hard, one of the supervising men had to lift him up into the platform. Once inside, he was ushered back to where he found himself pressed between bodies. They were all soaked, could find no warmth in huddling together anymore.

As more and more boys piled in, Roxas stood on his toes to look toward the alley one more time, to catch a last glimpse of Sora's sparkling blue eyes and beautiful smile. But he could hardly see, past the heads that towered over him and the rain that blurred everything together. If Sora was still there…Roxas could not see him. And then the door was slamming shut, enveloping them all in an abrupt darkness. Some of the boys cried out in surprise, and Roxas felt the guy behind him shudder in anticipation. The U-haul shifted beneath them suddenly, lurching and sending them all off-balance. And then they were moving.

It happened so fast.

He didn't quite fall asleep after that, but fell into a dull trance in which he was consumed by his thoughts. As he listened to the thrum of the engine, the quiet late night traffic outside, the fearful murmur echoing in whispers from the other boys, Roxas' mind swirled until he felt he was about to faint. So many questions. So much confusion. Like being told to look five ways at once. Like being blindfold and spun. Like slipping and falling and never waking up. Like opening your eyes and discovering you've been abandoned.

Again.

Hours passed without him even taking notice. One moment, he was watching the door fall shut, and the next, he found himself sitting and leaning against the legs of another as the U-haul came to a stop and the engine died. He blinked against the light, dim as it was, that flooded the back of the van, his entire body groaning, resisting all movement as Roxas tried to cover his eyes. They had stopped. They were leaving?

Why was everything happening so damn quickly?

Because there was nothing to do as he was shoved out of the U-haul and dragged into line with the other boys. They were again in a secluded parking lot, and were being forced through two metal doors leading into a basement beneath an old, tattered building. Roxas peered frantically around for some sort of escape - that's what Sora had told him. Run away. But there was no way he'd ever be able to outrun one of the fierce-looking supervisors. He was much too tiny, and in no condition at all with his bones so stiff and his muscles aching in pain. He could do nothing but obey the men and follow the group of orphans into the cellar, down the stairs, fumbling and tripping because there was hardly any light.

Lost, so lost. He couldn't see, couldn't think. He couldn't even breathe.

The stairs ended to a long corridor that forked in three different directions, and the boys were herded down the right hallway. It became lighter as they walked, as there was an occasional light bulb, naked and flickering, dangling every so often from the stark metal ceiling. Roxas didn't know whether to try to get closer to the other boys or try to slip away from them. Every door they passed was an exit, an escape. Even if they were underground, anything would be better than here, walking to what could very well be his doom.

But why, then? Where could they have been possibly going? His mind fought itself, trying to get over the shock and the fear, even as his body shook, so that he could figure out what the hell was going on. Why would Sora make him leave the orphanage? Was this for his own good? Was Sora…trying to get rid of him? No. No, Sora would never throw him away. Roxas squeezed his eyes tightly and bit the inside of his cheek. He couldn't let himself doubt Sora. Not now. He needed something to understand and believe in.

Next thing he knew, the walls were becoming concrete instead of metal and the lighting improved. Up ahead, he could see that the orphans were being split into groups and ushered into different rooms. When Roxas was shoved into one, he stumbled a little, but found himself caught in the arms of a much larger, stronger man.

"Hm? What a pretty one… Look at this one, Hizaki!"

Roxas gasped in surprise as the man yanked him upright and dragged him thoughtlessly to one side of the room. When he turned his head, he could see a few others orphans, also being handled with the same kind of treatment. Mirrors lined the walls, each one framed with brilliant lights and equipped with a small desk and a stool to sit at. At the moment, he was being dragged to some tall stalls, something that looked a bit like…

Showers?

He yelped when his shirt was yanked up over his head, none too lightly, and firm hands were suddenly unbuttoning his pants. Face red hot, he tried to cover himself as two sets of hands took to stripping him efficiently and shoving him under a jet of steaming water.

"You're right," another voice, softer than the first, noted with interest. Roxas looked up through his hair to see two men. One, with long hair and feminine features, gazed at him with simple curiosity. The other was busying himself with a collection of bottles with labels and names Roxas didn't recognize. "Soft features, small build. You are rather like a girl, hm?"

Roxas felt himself blush even more, though his skin was already turning pink from the water. It wasn't unbearable, but it was rather uncomfortable, and the heat was making his head kind of fuzzy. But then the first man was approaching him, equipment in hand, and as Roxas flinched away, he saw the other man smile at him kindly.

"Don't be scared, pretty one," he said softly, even as the first man began to scrub his body thoroughly with a soft, fresh-smelling soap. "We're just taking good care of you until the time is ready, okay?"

Roxas still whined as the man proceeded to wash every part of him, but he stood still. He shut his eyes and pretended it was just a normal day at the orphanage, like when Sora and he would take showers together and wash each other like brothers would. He wanted to obey. Be a good boy. Or else somebody would get mad at him, get rid of him. There would be no use struggling…so he stood there. Let them scrub him until his skin was raw and itchy. They rubbed shampoos and conditioners into his hair, using their nails to get even his scalp as clean as possible, lathering every strand of hair, even getting his face with a gentle type of soap that wouldn't burn his eyes so much.

It was humiliating.

Being washed like a child, as if he wasn't already grown, as if he had nothing to hide. Granted, it wasn't as though he was being molested… It was just that…somebody's hands were on him, handling him in a manner that he never wanted anybody to handle him in. The only person's hands he could ever accept were Sora's… Only Sora's.

Finally, he was taken from the showers and the larger of the men set about drying him with a large white towel. Even when he was dry, though, he was given no clothes. Instead, they wrapped the towel around his shoulders and sat him on the stool in front of one of the mirror's. Their hands were everywhere, flourishing so quickly, he couldn't keep track of what they were doing. All he knew was that scissors were snipping at his hair and something creamy was rubbing into his skin. What was this? He'd never had people be so…frank, so diligent with him. Never had people cared how he looked, made sure he was so spotless.

Because when he actually glanced up into the mirror, he could hardly recognize himself.

They had cut his hair into a style Roxas had seen many young men don on the streets. The same people that obviously had money. It was flattering, he supposed. Fluffy and soft in a way it had never been before, flaring out from his forehead. It was shiny, too. Like in commercials. He frowned at that. Sora had told him those commercials weren't real; nobody could look like that. But in a way…he almost did. His skin looked smooth and healthy. He couldn't tell that he had been freezing just minutes before, that he had been crying, that he had been pale as a ghost out of fear. He was…

"So pretty," the feminine man admired, placing a hand on his own cheek and staring at Roxas' reflection with some mixture of self-satisfaction and awe. "Now that you're all fixed up, I bet you'll sell even higher than I thought."

Sell?

He wasn't expecting chains. But regardless, they were clasped onto his wrists without hesitation, just like the rest of the boys, and without a single stitch of clothing on their bodies, they were again ushered into the hallway. So fast. How could everything be happening like this?

Wait…

He could hear noise…?

It was the sound of being on a busy street, but pressed together and muffled by the tightness of the walls around them. The murmuring was like buzzing, came from the end of the corridor. More people? Where were they going? Why were they here? What had Sora done?

They were brought to a large dark room, cluttered together, with a bright open space in front of them. Curtains to his right. Open space. A microphone. Yes, he could recognize the sound of a voice echoing unnaturally through the speakers. An audience. Yes, that would be the chattering. His eyes widened when he realized that the orphans were not the only ones here.

There were women too. Just as naked. Just as chained. He blushed furiously and tried to avoid staring, which wasn't too difficult. He was so embarrassed, he about fainted from the heat that rushed to his head. So many bodies, so much skin. It was too crowded… He was going to…

A hand, calloused and rough, grabbed his arm and suddenly jerked him from the rest of the crowd, drawing him forward. He caught himself, managed to compose himself…

Until he was led to that brilliant white light.

And all eyes were on him.

He immediately glued his eyes onto the floor - of a stage, he realized, as if he were some extraordinary spectacle. There was more noise. It had gotten louder. The voice in the mic, the voices from the crowd in front of him. Loud. So loud. Shouting, eager, flustered. A hand grabbed his chin and forced him to look up, but he fixated his gaze on the ceiling instead. He couldn't move any more than that. No more than his eyes. It wasn't physically possible. He shook and he ached as he trembled, and his eyes blinked repeatedly, subconsciously pressing tears back from his eyes. No, he couldn't cry.

Of everything that had gone by so quickly that night…it was those moments on that stage…

That felt eternal.

Suddenly, the noises silenced to an aggravated grumble, and hands were once again grabbing him, pulling him. From the stage. From the light. But he didn't return to the crowd of other young boys. Instead, he was taken out and dragged down the corridors again, led outside, thrown into the back seat of a car - literally, thrown. Roxas couldn't remember the last time someone had handled him so roughly.

He curled in on himself as the car started and began to move, huddled into as much of a ball as his body would allow and sat, cold and shaking and terrified. What the hell was happening to him?

This car ride was much shorter than the one in the back of the U-haul. In fact, he didn't even have time to drift into sleep, though his body was suddenly as heavy as a boulder, and every movement was like moving the earth itself. But whoever these people were didn't care much at all. He was yanked out of the car, and somebody was saying something he didn't bother to listen to, before he was forced to walk once more, still naked.

"For the young master, sir."

That was the man currently holding him, handing him over to somebody else. Roxas looked up, eyes wide at the man before him. A terrifying face. Marred with a thick scar right across his nose and blue hair falling around his head like a mane. He glared down at him as if he had no kindness at all in his soul. As if he had no soul.

"I see," was all he said before taking Roxas from the man and dragging him toward the house behind him.

If one could call it a house. It was larger than anything Roxas had ever seen, rivaling even business buildings with its flashiness. It was wide, three stories tall, made of smooth white stone and built with pillars and fixtures, beautiful and elegant designs. A mansion, like in the movies. Sora had told him…they were just like the beautiful models. They didn't really exist. Nobody actually owned one.

But this…it was right in front of him.

Inside was the same. The front room was so large, it was almost…unnecessary. Nothing but a wide open space with polished floors, open doors and lovely decorations, and a staircase that split up either side of the furthermost wall. It was to the staircases that the blue-haired man took him, choosing the right one and leading him up the steps without a word. On the landing, they turned right, took a corridor. Every door they passed was more expensive-looking than anything Roxas had ever touched in his entire life. It was all so imposing…so threatening… He wanted to curl up and die.

"Sit inside," he commanded, thrusting Roxas into one of the rooms.

He cried out when he hit the ground on all fours, unable to keep his balance. Trembling, he hurriedly crawled away from the man, cowering in any attempt to cover himself. But the man, awful as he was, did not come any closer. He simply glowered at him for another moment, and then slammed the door shut.

Alone.

It was better than being with such a terrible stranger, Roxas supposed, since today had been nothing but one harassment after another. Right now, maybe being alone wasn't such a terrible thing. Then again…ideally, he should have been with Sora… Like every other night since his life had become remotely good… Whimpering, he managed to sit upright and glanced around the room he had been thrust in.

A large wardrobe, a wide dresser, all remarkably beautiful for such simple pieces of furniture. At the orphanage, Roxas had shared all of his clothes with any of the boys who had fit his size. To be honest, when the laundry was done each week, he had no clue what sets of clothing he would receive that day. All of the clothes were set in the same dresser for each room, a room shared by six to twelve other boys. It was cramped and crowded, but it was the only way for them to be able to live like that together. But here, the wardrobe and dresser… that meant…

Roxas' eyes grew wide as he turned to look over his shoulder, and saw what he had been dreading: the bed.

He was beginning to understand…

Just why he was here.

The tears began spilling over before he could even register the thought. He knew. He knew what was going to happen when the "young master" returned… But he couldn't think it. Something kept his mind from actually forming the words in his mind. If he did, he felt as though he might lose his grip on sanity. All he could think about was Sora, and he whispered to himself, over and over, until his throat burned.

"Sora…what did you do?"

Time passed, and he found himself beginning to ache on the floor. If he was going to be treated this way…if this was really going to happen… Whining, he rose unsurely and climbed atop the bed.

Despite himself, he gasped in awe at the silk beneath his bare skin. It was different than simply glancing past a woman with a silk scarf, letting it brush against his hand for just a moment so he could feel what it was like. This, feeling it touch him everywhere, was such a magical moment. It was soft and smooth and shiny… Trembling, he hunched himself into a little ball on his knees, not daring to sit any more comfortably than that, let alone lie down. All he could do was sit…and wait…and think…and try not to think…and wait…

And wait some more.

It was a kiss that woke him.

Roxas gasped at the foreign feeling, but didn't feel the need to jerk back, because the lips on his were moving away before he could fully register what was going on. Eyes wide, he stared at the face so close to his. More accurately, he found himself gazing at those eyes. Bright green, like the jewels Sora said could never really be that shiny. But this man's eyes were. They were shiny and beautiful and green. Like a cat's.

And then the man was wiping at his cheeks with his thumb, and Roxas' senses switched to overdrive. He could feel how close the man was, could smell his sweet breath, feel long fingers in his hair and fingers brushing over his face. His face lit up instantly, red hot. This man… Such a kind gesture…an embarrassing gesture, but a kind one. So gentle and soft, collecting his tears with a touch lighter than a feather…

"Don't do that," he whispered, and Roxas shuddered instinctively. He was so close, so intimate… How could a stranger be so…caring? The fingers slid down his cheek suddenly, took hold of his chin and brought his lips up to touch the man's. Roxas couldn't help it. He was too tired to fight…too… He felt his eyes threaten to close, fluttering unsurely, and his body relaxed in the arms of this stranger… So unnecessarily kind… Lips pulled away just an inch. "I want to see that smile of yours…one day… What's your name then?"

Roxas opened his eyes and blinked at the man. He wanted his name? If he was here…for that…why? It was hard enough to recover from that kiss…Roxas' only kiss as far as he could remember. On the lips, at least. Sora had kissed him, of course. On the forehead, the cheeks. As a brother would, since they loved each other so much… The thought of Sora…

"Well?" the man suddenly teased, and strong nails suddenly grazed across the top of his scalp. It tingled and tickled and burned all at the same time, and Roxas shivered, not knowing how to respond. Another kiss. Light, quick. Over before Roxas even realized it had happened. He blinked up at the man, awestruck. "Can't you talk or do I get to name you myself?"

He wanted to answer…but his mouth wouldn't work. His brain wouldn't work. He just sat and stared, not reacting again when the man kissed him once more and then drew away from the bed to retrieve a heavy key from the bedside table. Roxas blinked at it as Axel unlocked the chains on his hands and tossed the cuffs and the key back onto the table. As he strode smoothly to the dresser on the other side of the room, Roxas stared and took in every detail… He was a peculiar looking man. He wore jeans that made his legs look ridiculously long, and a hoodie that made his torso lean and his shoulders broad… His hands were well defined, with long fingers. He had a handsome face, too. Masculine, but boyish in a way that reminded him again of a cat, or maybe a fox. Narrow features that were striking and daring, and a shock of fabulous red hair that lay spiky and jagged past his shoulders. Two identical tattoos beneath his eyes, like black diamonds…but it was those eyes. They flashed in the light, grinned even if his lips weren't… They were mesmerizing.

He returned before Roxas knew it, with an oversized shirt that he suddenly thew over his head. For a moment, the world was dark, and Roxas could hear his heart thumping, and without warning, his voice found his throat.

"Roxas."

The shirt abruptly tugged over his head and floated into place around his body. It really was huge… He felt like a little mouse in it. But it covered him up, something he was immensely grateful for, even as he blushed bright. The man tilted his head at him curiously, smirking in a way that made Roxas squirm.

"What?" he asked, voice suddenly low and deep and…oh dear. Roxas turned away, growing hotter by the second. Why the hell did he have to sound like that? But those long fingers were at his chin, pulling his gaze back to that green one. He felt the hem of the shirt shift dangerously over his thighs as he twitched nervously in his grasp. "What did you just say?"

"My name…" he gasped, glancing away before looking back at the redheaded stranger. "Is Roxas."

"Roxas…" he repeated, and the blonde suddenly heard his name as an entirely different sound. With the drawn out "o" and the "xas" purred in such a way that crawled across Roxas' skin. The man suddenly grinned at him then, grabbed his hands and touched the tops of them with his mouth. Eyes wide. Cheeks red. Roxas stared. "Well, Roxas, it's a pleasure. I'm Axel, and I'd be delighted if you would share my bed tonight."

Roxas swore he felt his heart drop. Like a stone. Heavy. Hard. Oh, it ached, sitting there in his stomach, where it so obviously didn't need to be. How could this man…Axel…who treated him so kindly…ask such a terrible thing of him? How? Why? What was he going to do? Because he wouldn't…he couldn't… He felt like he was going to faint all over again.

"Because you look awfully tired," the stranger finished softly, and Roxas blinked at the smile gently lifting his lips. Was he… He wasn't going to…? "And my bed is quite comfortable."

Oh. He relaxed a little, but relaxing only made him start shaking again. All he knew was that he was safe… Safe for now, at least. Because of his man… This strange…stranger. Axel.

Who scooped him up so suddenly, as if he were nothing but ten pounds, and Roxas gasped and grabbed onto the nearest thing available to steady his heart: Axel's neck. When he was set down, it was on his back, and silk covers were drawn over his body immediately afterward. Roxas watched Axel as the man settled him down, watched the genuine affection gleam in those eyes. Yes, he knew it was genuine.

Roxas had known many cruel people in his life. He knew hatred when he saw it and knew how to differentiate it between disgust and how to tell the difference between annoyance and anger. He knew the line between uncertain and nervous, between fear and hesitance. And Roxas knew when someone's smile was real and when it was mocking or hesitant or simply fake. And Axel…well, Axel reminded him frighteningly of Sora. They could not have been more unalike. Axel was tall, lean, striking, as opposed to Sora, who was short and childish and playful. But then Axel leaned forward and pressed a kiss, so gentle and sweet and real, to his forehead.

Right where Sora had.

"Go to sleep, Roxas," he commanded gently, gazing down at him with those eyes that Roxas could simply not get over. And then Axel turned away, shut off the light, and disappeared from the room.

But Roxas didn't feel alone. He was…warm. Where he had only a little while ago been cold and empty… Roxas felt as though that lonely bit of him had suddenly been filled… Maybe it was his fear of accepting that he had been abandoned. Maybe it was him trying to be optimistic. Maybe it was because he had been forced to adapt so many times before that it came naturally. Maybe it was just because Axel reminded him a little bit of Sora and Sora was what he needed.

But Roxas found it easy to do what he did best, there in the dark, in the bed of a fabulously wealthy, handsome and kind stranger named Axel…

And he obeyed.

Yes, I just couldn't let them go. :3 Couldn't help it. So many people asked for more character development. Hopefully, this will be my way of giving it to you. If I fail, then...well, I'm sorry. :/

After this (or possibly, during if I get too antsy), I'll be writing a drabble-sequel. Cute, fluffy, light-heartedness. :) Anywho. Review and all that. Not sure if I really captured the Roxas-vibe here. Buuut I guess you'll just tell me if I did or didn't.

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