Title: Unzipped
Rating: Explicit
Pairings/Characters: Axel/Roxas, Implied/Referenced Axel/Saïx, Larxene, Demyx, Vexen, Organization XIII Ensemble
Word Count: 15,361
Rating: Explicit
Additional Tags: Partying, Angst, Truth or Dare, Confessions, First Time, Explicit Sexual Content
Content Warnings: Roxas's age in this is ambiguous. Also, thanks to when it's set in the timeline, this story does not have a happy ending.
Author's note: Self-indulgent as shit, and inspired by this one edit which I took one look at and went, "but how can I make it canon compliant." ...Turns out the answer to that question is 'not easily', but. I'm stubborn. Set the night before Axel heads out to Castle Oblivion.
Summary:
Roxas has no idea what he's getting himself into.


Everyone’s here, just about. He knew ahead of time that everyone would be, but… it’s kind of overwhelming in person, seeing them all gathered together in the same place like this.

It doesn’t help that he’s late. It doesn’t help he’s the last one here. And it definitely doesn’t help that they all turn to look at him the moment he walks in, all of them falling silent like he’s interrupted some conversation they were having—he did hear them talking on his way in through the corridor.

It would be completely silent here in the Grey Room right now if it wasn’t for the music blaring through the speakers. Somehow that only makes the silence more obvious.

They’re staring right at him. Some of them look really unimpressed. They all have these big red cups in their hands. Their boss, Xemnas, standing nearest to the doorway, raises his eyebrows and eyes Roxas from head to toe to head again, his teeth bared in not a smile above the rim of his cup.

Roxas prickles a little. Sorry he’s late?

“H-Hey, Roxas!” Oh, that’s Axel’s voice. It flares up over the music, and Roxas lets out a little sigh of relief, glad someone’s happy to see him, and really glad that that someone is Axel, who he’s happy to see, too—at least until he turns to Axel and actually sees the expression on Axel's face. Axel’s eyes are wide above an obviously alarmed smile. What’s up with that?

“Roxas, Roxas.” Axel steps forward. “Didn’t expect to see you here. Can you come with me for a sec?”

…It’s not a question, Roxas realizes, as Axel ushers him back into the doorway he just came in through.

“What's going on?” Roxas asks, glancing past Axel and back at the Grey Room. Everyone’s laughing and chatting and having a good time. Why couldn’t they keep on doing that once Roxas walked in? “Why was everyone looking at me like I wasn’t invited?”

“Well, because you’re not—” Axel starts. Then something clicks and he pauses, his eyes widening again, this time with more surprise than alarm. “Wait. WERE you invited?”

“Yeah,” says Roxas, a little annoyed. “I mean, how else would I have known to come here tonight?”

“Now wait a sec. One thing at a time. Who slipped you the invitation?”

“Larxene. Why? Does it matter?”

Eyes sharp and narrowed in his black eyeliner, Axel slowly crosses his arms. “…What exactly did she tell you?”

“She said… That you guys throw these things at the end of every week. And that it was too bad I didn’t come to the last one, so I should at least come along tonight.” But Roxas is catching on as he hears himself. He frowns at the floor. “…Let me guess. She was just messing with me. So I’m not really invited.”

Axel shakes his head. “See… The thing is, Roxas, you just got here. Been about three weeks since you joined us, tops. So you’re still a newbie to the Organization.”

“I’m a new recruit, not a kid,” says Roxas, huffily. “Why does that have to mean I can’t come along tonight? C’mon. Like that’s fair. I’m the only one who isn’t here.”

“Well, that’s not true. Our shiny new Number XIV isn’t here either. Look, Xemnas probably thinks you can’t handle something like this just yet. And he’s probably right. These shindigs can be kinda… a lot. Especially if you don’t know what to expect going in.”

“I have some idea,” Roxas argues. “Larxene said that you guys usually play a heap of games, dance a little, and stay up late.”

“Yeah, I bet she did…” says Axel, under his breath, but not so quietly that Roxas can’t hear it.

“Well, that doesn’t sound too bad. Would it really be a problem for anyone if I joined in?”

Axel drags his stare over Roxas, a little differently to the way Xemnas looked him up and down before. “…So persistent,” he murmurs to himself. “Listen to me, Roxas. It’s not like I don’t want you here. It’s just… You know. Gotta wait ’til you’re ready, right?”

“What makes you think I’m—”

—not? Roxas is about to ask, when the light in the doorway’s interrupted by a silhouette in the shape of their boss, Saïx. A long shadow extends from his feet as he steps toward them.

At first glance, one of Saïx’s arms looks longer than the other, but on a second glance it’s just because Saïx is holding his red cup by the rim with all five fingers. Approaching Axel from behind, Saïx wraps his arm around Axel’s waist until his free hand is set on Axel’s hip, fingertips barely grazing the pocket of Axel’s black denim coat.

Axel doesn’t seem to mind. And he doesn’t seem to mind how close Saïx is standing beside him, either. Would he mind if Roxas tried to stand that close to him? If Roxas put his hand there, too, or…

“Something the matter, Axel?” Saïx asks, staring at Roxas.

It takes Roxas a second to realize Saïx isn’t talking to him. Even though they’re off work for the rest of the day, Saïx still feels like his boss. About to give him a mission, about to tell him about some meeting he’d better not miss. About to order him around.

Saïx doesn’t seem to make Axel feel that way, though—judging by how Axel lets Saïx’s fingers trace along his side, trailing near the done-up part of his coat zipper.

They’re really close. Closer than Roxas has ever seen them. Maybe closer than Roxas needs to see them. Roxas averts his eyes.

“Nah,” says Axel. “All good. Someone had to see Roxas off to him room for the night. Y’know, so he wouldn’t have to head back alone.”

“Oh, what a shame. Roxas, you aren’t interested in staying?”

“Oh boy…” Lowering his voice, Axel turns to Saïx, the twist of his waist enough to make Saïx’s hand slip off it, which is a relief as far as Roxas is concerned. “Come on, you don’t hafta mock the kid. It was a mix-up. He didn’t know.”

“No, wait, I am interested,” says Roxas, a little peeved that Axel had to call him that. “I wanna join you guys. But Axel says I’m not meant to be here.”

“Which is true,” says Axel to Saïx. “Larxene took it upon herself to invite him along.”

“Yes, I assumed that was the case. Roxas,” says Saïx, coolly, “although the invitation regrettably didn’t come from Lord Xemnas himself, he did want me to tell you that he is willing to honor it just this once. Perhaps in recognition of all the hard work you’ve been putting in lately.”

Axel flickers. “He said that?”

“He did indeed,” says Saïx, smiling. “Of course, Roxas, you are still more than welcome to return to your room and sleep the night away, if you’d prefer. But Lord Xemnas would have you know that you are permitted to stay tonight, so you need not feel any pressure to leave.”

“That so.”

Saïx lifts his cup to his lips. “I think Roxas deserves to have a little fun. We shouldn’t have to babysit him all the time, don’t you agree?”

There's a pause as Axel's stare lingers on Roxas again, his eyes half-lidded, his mouth open slightly. “Suppose not…” Axel mutters, glancing away. “Looks like it’s up to you, then, Roxas,” he says with a sigh, combing his fingers back through his hair, teased and red.

Roxas is frowning. “I’d be happy to stay.”

Saïx lowers his cup. “Then we’ll see you both back in the hall as soon as you’re ready to join us.” And with that he turns and leaves the way he came.

Once he’s gone, Axel lowers his voice. “Dunno know what THAT’S all about…”



“Huh? What do you mean?”

“Our boss isn’t usually so generous,” Axel explains, glancing back at the doorway. “And neither is Saïx. Feels odd, is all.”

And then there’s Roxas, who’s feeling tense, like there’s something off between him and Axel right now. Like they’ve just had an argument, and he’s not sure if that’s a thing friends do, like how he's not sure if Axel and Saïx are more than friends, to say nothing about how he never knew they were friends to begin with. “Hey, I thought we Nobodies weren’t supposed to feel,” he says, hopefully, thinking a joke could help cool things down between him and Axel.

It’s only half a laugh that Axel lets out, but it does a lot to make Roxas feel better. “Be careful tonight, okay?” he says. “I wouldn’t wanna see you get yourself hurt.”

“Being left out kinda hurts.”

“I get it. All right. I trust you know what you’re doing, Roxas. But… If at any point you need anything, no matter what it is, you come straight to me, okay? Remember, it’s my job to look out for you. No one else’s. Got it—”

“—‘memorized’? Yeah. Thanks, Axel. You don’t have to make it sound like I’m about to go up against a powerful Heartless, though. I can look after myself.”

“Well, you know. If you wanna have a good time, you gotta stay safe, look around. All that. Especially when you’re partying with this gang.”

---

The Grey Room’s booming when Roxas and Axel head back in. The music’s cranked up loud, the bass line buzzing up against the soles of Roxas’s shoes and into his socks, even. Drawing in a breath, Roxas looks around.

There’s Demyx, squeezing both his hands together at Vexen’s feet, like he’s pleading for something (okay…)? Xemnas and Xigbar are standing over by the windows, talking about something Roxas definitely can’t hear a word of from here. Marluxia’s reclined on one of the sofas, head tipped back to drink from a red cup that Larxene, leaning over him from behind, is pouring over his lips. The sofas on the opposite side of the room have been pushed back a little, to make way for a makeshift dance floor.

“Want a drink?” Axel asks, bringing Roxas back to where they’re standing at the start of the room. “My treat.”

“Oh. Sure,” says Roxas, surprised. “That’d be great. Thanks, Axel.”

He follows Axel over to the far side of the room where a tower of more red cups is leaning to the left on top of a table that’s been set up for the party. Axel twists two cups off the top of the tower, places them upright on the table, then goes to reach for one of the colorful bottles also on the table. Then he stops.

“Hm.” He turns to Roxas. “Don’t suppose you have a preference?”

Roxas glances at the bottles. “…First I’d have to know where to begin.” All the bottles look the same, apple-green and wrapped in red and gold ribbons, a bow at the bottleneck, a caramel colored cork stopping the top. “I’ll have whatever you’re having,” he decides, figuring that's a safe enough bet to start with.

“Whoa, dude!” Demyx jumps in, Roxas nearly falling forward from the force of the arm Demyx has flung around Roxas’s shoulder. “What’s your poison?”

“Poison?” Roxas shakes his shoulders. “Hey, get off me!”

“Hey, Axel, any Fizzy Tizzy on the table?” Demyx raises his cup, wagging it left and right. “My little red cup could use a really big refill.”

“Oh, I’m your bartender now, am I? Go see for yourself, man.”

“What did he mean by poison?” Roxas asks Axel, once Demyx has left them alone. “Is this stuff bad for you?”

“It’s just a turn of phrase,” says Axel, side-eyeing Demyx so hard that Roxas almost expects Demyx’s tuft of hair to catch on fire. “This stuff’s only poison if you drink too much. You’ve never drunk before, have you, Roxas?”

“No,” Roxas replies. “Not this stuff. Just water.”

“Hey, man, I love water!”

“Would you MIND leaving enough for the rest of us!”

Ignoring Vexen and Demyx, Axel scratches his head, mussing up his hair some more. “Okay, well… It’s your first drink, so, lessee. Oh, I know, let’s give you something light you’ll like the taste of. A little mermaid salt with… now what mixers do we have… hey, how about some crystal soda?” Axel picks up one of the green bottles. He turns it over and reads the label. “Yep, this should do the trick.”

Pulling the cork out, Axel shakes the bottle of mermaid salt over both cups until it drips out in bright, sparkly blue drops. Then he pops the top off the bottle of crystal soda and pours it out over his cup and Roxas’s, creamy white foam rising up to the brim.

“Here ya go.” He hands Roxas one of the cups. Their fingers brush against each other through their gloves as Roxas takes the cup from Axel.

“Thanks.” There are sparks in Roxas's fingertips where they touched Axel’s. Wonder if Axel feels these same sparks. The drink in Roxas’s hand is fizzing and a few of the bubbles prick his nose as he lifts the cup to his lips. “Wow,” he says, after a taste. “It’s so sweet.”

“That’d be the crystal soda.”

“There you are.”

Roxas flinches, hearing Saïx before he sees him—and even then he would’ve had no idea that Saïx had come up behind him if Saïx hadn’t said anything. Everyone’s always gliding around this place, as if they don’t make footsteps when they walk.

Roxas’s own feet barely make a sound as he turns around to look up at Saïx—well, up the long coat zipper leading up to Saïx. Who really is standing right behind Roxas. But he’s looking straight over Roxas’s head, at Axel. He’s holding two red cups the same way he was holding his one cup before.

Axel’s cup—the one that matches Roxas’s—is still on the table. “Hey. Sorry I went missing. I was just fixing Roxas something to drink.”

“Oh?” Handing a cup to Axel, Saïx peers into Roxas’s cup. “Only crystal soda tonight, Roxas?”

“And mermaid salt,” says Roxas, more aware than he’d like to be that Axel barely hesitated before taking the cup from Saïx, like he didn’t already have a drink. Like the drink he didn’t already have isn’t on the table, slowly fizzing out.

Axel does glance at it, though, at the cup on the table. But he doesn’t reach for it. He holds the one Saïx gave him and knocks it back, once. Roxas sips from his cup again. The flavor's a little flatter than it was before.

“I’m glad to see you’re enjoying yourself,” Saïx tells Roxas, taking a drink. “Just make sure you don’t wind up too inebriated, if you can help it.”

“Inebri—what?”

Saïx lowers his cup, revealing a thin smile. “Don’t drink too much.”

“Hey, X-face, that doesn’t go for all of us, does it? Oh, crap!” There’s a crash on the other side of the table. A cup topples over, throwing ice cubes and a pale pink liquid all over the floor.

“You imbecile!” Vexen exclaims, stepping back from the mess Demyx has made. “Do you think that is going to come out of my shoes!”

A shrill laugh leaps up from the right, partly covered by the back of a hand. “Nice going, Demyx. Hey, losers! Luxord needs lab rats for this new game he wants to try. I was thinking we could get the whole C.O. team in on this. Come on, Vexen, you wanna join us?”

“Don’t touch me,” Vexen snaps, yanking his arm away from Larxene’s fingertips.

“Ooh, sorry.” She holds her hands up in pretend surrender. “I almost forgot you weren’t into tits.”

“To answer your question, Demyx, Lord Xemnas is already operating under the assumption that you’ll be waking up with a hangover tomorrow, so make of that what you will.”

“Pfft. Now we know why you didn’t get the invite to Castle Oblivion,” Larxene declares, laughing at Demyx. “Remind me, because I think I lost count, how many drinks have you had tonight?”

“Hey now. I’ll have you know I’ve only had two so far.” Demyx looks down at his cup. “…Two and a half.”

Awkwardly, Roxas passes his cup from his left hand to his right.

“What about you, Axel?” Larxene asks, coming around the side of the table and slipping her arms around Axel’s waist. “You and your boyfriend wanna play?”

Saïx glowers at her. “Hands off.”

“Or what.” She flashes Roxas a grin. “Enjoying the party so far, short stack?”

“Or someone wakes up tomorrow morning to find that her ticket to Castle Oblivion has become mysteriously invalid overnight,” Saïx states. “How does that sound?”

Larxene sighs, but she lets go of Axel’s waist, like she’s dropping him. “Don’t be such a buzzkill, Saïx. Just ‘cuz you get to tap this…” She runs a hand up Axel’s thigh, then smacks his backside.

Maybe Axel was right. Maybe Roxas wasn’t ready for this, after all. Even though there’s still plenty of drink left in it, Roxas sets his cup down on the table.

But to Roxas’s surprise, his cup is joined on the table by Axel’s a moment later. “You know what,” says Axel. “I wanna see what this game of Luxord’s is all about. How about it, Saïx? Roxas? Shall we go and find out?”

“Hold on. Before you go anywhere…” Xigbar comes up behind Saïx, grinning beneath his eyepatch as he grabs Saïx by the shoulder. “I’m gonna have to borrow your boss for a second. Saïx. Lord Xemnas needs to go over something with you before he packs it in for the night. Remember that thing we discussed earlier…”

Saïx smiles. “Of course. Axel, Roxas, I’ll be joining you shortly.”

So Saïx leaves with Xigbar, and Larxene’s started to all but drag the remaining group over to where Luxord is sitting on one of the sofas—Marluxia and Zexion on his either side—but Axel hangs back for a moment, and Roxas stays with him.

“You doing okay so far?” Axel asks.

“Yeah. Why?”

“Dunno. You seem down. Something up?”

...Roxas didn’t realize Axel had been paying that much attention to him. Because Axel's right, something is up, but like he can come out and tell Axel what that Something is. So he thinks about one of the other things on his mind. “It’s a little weird,” he says. “Everyone’s so… handsy. Are they always like this?”

“Not a fan?”

“Not really,” Roxas admits. “Doesn’t it get on your nerves, having them jump all over you like that?”

“Guess I’m used to it,” says Axel. “Look, they’ll back off if you tell them to. And if they don’t, leave them to me. I’ll clear ‘em off for you.”

“Hey, Axel! Ro—oxas!” Larxene calls out. “You playing or what! We’re gonna start without you!”

Axel puts his hands on his hips, smiling. It’s unfair… really unfair how good Axel looks when he’s smiling, when his hands are set on his hips, flattering his body. “What do you think, Roxas? Feeling up for a game or two?”

Axel’s right—if the others are bothering Roxas, he can just shrug them off and tell them to stop like he did with Demyx before. But he can’t really shrug them off when it’s Axel they’re glomping on to, and apparently Saïx is the only one who gets to tell them to back off.

And it’s definitely not like Roxas can tell Saïx to take his hands off Axel, not when Saïx and Axel are… together. Obviously together.

It seems so obvious now, but up until now, Roxas had no idea that…

Which is why he’d hoped HE could be…

That he and Axel could be…

But come on. Saïx has gone off with Xigbar for the time being, so there’s no point in getting hung up on Saïx right now.

Right now it’s just Roxas and Axel. And Axel’s at least interested enough in Roxas to ask Roxas if he wants to join him.

It feels nice to be looked out for. Even if that’s Axel’s job. It still feels nice. Roxas makes a small smile. “Yeah. Let’s go.”

---

The name of the game, says Luxord, once they’re all sat down on the sofas hugging the low table, is Spin the Sigil. With something like a flourish, Luxord presents a challenge sigil, holds it up, shiny and silver, then sets it in the center of the table.

“Uh.” Axel leans back and crosses his arms. “As in ‘Spin the Bottle’?”

“You know this game?” Demyx frowns. “Unfair advantage, much?”

“No dice, no cards—how unusual.” Sitting on Roxas’s right-hand side, Zexion brings a hand to his chin. “How does one win this?”

“Allow me to explain the rules. This game may very well be similar or different to others that some of us have played before. There are no winners in Spin the Sigil, only losers.”

“Sweet,” says Larxene, smiling. “So what’s the penalty? Losers get bruises, or…?”

“‘Bruises’?” Demyx jumps back in his seat. “I didn’t sign up for violence.”

“Oh, enough!” exclaims Vexen. “Some of us are trying to learn the game! Luxord. Get on with it.”

“Yes. We’ll go around the circle in turn. I’ll start, to set the example. On my turn, I’ll take the sigil and spin it in place. Once it stops spinning, it will be pointing at another player. That person will then ask me a question: Truth, or Dare?

“If I say Truth, then I have to answer, truthfully, a question of his choosing. If I say Dare, then I have to perform any dare he wants me to do.”



“Any, you say?”

“Yes. Now, if I don’t care for the truth or dare I’ve been dealt, I can refuse my turn. However, if I decide to do so, then I must incur the penalty and take a shot.”

There’s a pause. “Take a shot at who?” Roxas asks, surprised no one else wanted to know.

Larxene doubles over, cackling. “No, you dweeb! He means take a shot like take a drink!”

“Oh.” Roxas sits back, embarrassed.

“So it’s a drinking game,” says Axel.

“Is this really an appropriate game for Roxas to play?” says Marluxia, smiling at Roxas. “Perhaps something like hacky sack would be more your speed.”

“Since when has the Organization had a footbag?” asks Zexion.

“Since Xaldin’s ballsack got so saggy,” Larxene replies, grinning.

“What do you mean by that?” Roxas asks Marluxia.

“Just ignore him,” Axel murmurs, leaning in to Roxas where he’s sitting at Roxas’s left. Roxas’s breath catches in his throat. Any—Any closer and Roxas would not just hear but feel Axel’s words on his ear.

“Now,” Axel goes on, “there’s no need to drink if you don’t wanna. Just say Truth to everything. You’re less likely to get a question you don’t wanna answer than a dare you wouldn’t wanna do.”

“R-Right. Got it,” says Roxas, nodding. “Have you played this before, Axel?”

“Kinda. I’ve played a version without the sigil. Similar, but not the same.”

“Was that one you mentioned earlier?” Spin the—?

“Nah, Spin the Bottle’s a different game. I wouldn’t be playing if that’s what Luxord had in mind for tonight.”

Roxas is about to ask why, when Luxord brings the table back together.

“If there are no further questions,” says Luxord, and the rest of the chatter falls to a hush, “I’ll start us off.”

Leaning over the table where he's standing, Luxord places his fingertips on the sigil, twists his fingers, and sends the sigil spinning in a flat cartwheel upon the surface of the table.

When the spinning stops, the sigil’s pointed end is pointing at Larxene. “So now I ask you Truth or Dare?” she asks.

Luxord lowers his head in a single nod, his jewelry flashing in the light. “Let’s play.”

“Cool. All right. Truth or Dare, Luxord.”

“Truth.”

Thinking, Larxene taps her finger against her cheek, once, twice. Then her face lights up with a grin and she opens her hand at Luxord, beckoning. “All right. There’s actually something I’ve been wondering about for ages, so this works out perfectly. Luxord, truth. Do you have a Prince Albert or not?”

Luxord smiles. “Yes.” Still standing, he brings his hands to the lower zipper of his coat. “Would you like to see?”

“Dude, NO!” Demyx erupts from his seat. “Literally no one wants to see that!”

“Speak for yourself—and get out of the way!” Vexen exclaims, grabbing Demyx by the shoulder and pulling him back down on to the sofa.

“What, you actually WANT an eyeful of his junk? Gross, man!”

“Vex—en!” Larxene says, putting on a gasp. “I knew you liked guys, but not in THAT way. Wow. You’re such a pervert!”

“No, I’m merely curious from a scientific… Never mind. The explanation would be wasted on you.”

“Are we going clockwise or counterclockwise?” Zexion asks.

“Clockwise,” says Luxord, sitting back down. So much for getting to find out what a ‘Prince Albert’ is.

“All right, so it’s my turn, then,” says Zexion.

He spins the sigil and it comes to a stop before Marluxia, who ends up daring him to stroll on over to where Lexaeus is dancing on the other side of the room and ‘finally admit to that strong, burly brute what a smolderingly hot cut of meat you find him to be’. With that said, Marluxia lowers himself back into his seat, both himself and Larxene shuddering with suppressed laughter. Guess they find the same things funny. Roxas is pretty sure no one is surprised to see that Zexion decides to take a shot instead.

“What are we playing?” Saïx asks, coming up behind Axel. He slides his hands up Axel’s shoulders, fingers slipping under the black denim hood, rubbing smoothly. Roxas swallows, way too aware that his own shoulders are coming up to his ears. He tries to keep them down as he reaches over the table for his turn.

“‘Spin the Sigil’,” says Axel, tilting his head back to look up at Saïx. “Think ‘Truth or Dare’ with a prop.”

“Roxas, is it your turn?”

“Yeah,” says Roxas. He spins the sigil and it stops at Demyx. “Okay, truth.”

“Don't mind me, I'm not playing,” says Saïx, stepping around the sofa to sit down at Axel's other side. With one leg folded over the other, Saïx sets one hand on his knee and the other on Axel's thigh.

After a moment, Axel reaches over and places his hand on top of Saïx's. Something inside Roxas sinks and sinks as he watches Axel give Saïx's hand a squeeze, as Axel's and Saïx's fingers lock together in Axel's lap.

Eventually, Axel unlocks his fingers and draws his hand back and away. But Saïx's hand stays.

“Truth, huh? All right, how about this.” Demyx clicks his fingers. “If you knew a guy who has dominion over ice, and you yourself were number nine, then don’t you think it’d make perfect sense for you and the ice guy to go to an INK concert together?”

…Roxas has to play that back in his head a few times. Which makes it easier not to think about Axel and Saïx for a moment, so Roxas is grateful for that, even if Demyx’s question makes no sense. “Um… probably? What the hell?”

“I already told you, no,” hisses Vexen. “Luxord, tell him to go again. That wasn’t a valid question.”

“No, that was a question! A fucking stupid question, but a question he could and did answer. Which means we’re on to Axel’s turn.”

Saïx’s hand squeezes Axel’s thigh through the black denim as Axel leans forward, takes the sigil, and sends it spinning.

“Truth,” says Axel, once the sigil’s stopped in place.

“Ooh." Larxene grins, her eyes bright and cunning. “I had a perfectly exciting dare all wired up for you, but fine, we can go with truth. Truth, Axel. Who tops?”

Tops?

“Oh, come on,” Demyx whines. “And you think I wasted my turn?”

“Unlike yours, loser, this is a question the whole table can understand. Axellllll. Who screws whom?”

Screws?

“That. Is TWO questions. Axel, you need only answer the first one.”

“Or take a shot.”

“One question, then. So go. Who. Tops. Your people want to know, Axel.”

…What Roxas wants to know is what Larxene is even getting at—who tops what? But he gets the feeling that Larxene’s gonna laugh at him and call him names again if he tries asking. He’ll have to bring it up with Axel later.

Axel folds his arms. “The answer’s Saïx,” he says, “if you really wanna know.”

The answer doesn’t mean much to Roxas, but it makes Larxene’s eyes widen, glinting. “Really? Like, consistently? So you don’t even switch at all? Wow. You’re a champ, Axel. Taking it on the regular. Who knew you had it in you?”

“Six. Six questions, since no one else is bothering to keep the tally. Enough of this. Saïx.” Vexen waves his hand. “It’s your turn.”

“He’s not playing,” says Roxas.

“He’s—Yeah, what Roxas said…” Axel glances at Roxas, unfolding his arms. “Which means it’s Demyx’s turn.”

“Umm, okay,” says Roxas, the sigil pointing at him. He has no idea what to ask Demyx. He’s still thinking about… no, he’s gotta stop thinking about that. There’s nothing he can do about it. Back to the game. What CAN he ask Demyx? “Umm… how long have you had your sitar?”

“Uh. Since… uhhhh… Gimme that thing.” Demyx yanks the bottle out of Luxord’s hand and takes a swig—kind of angrily, if Roxas is being honest.

“You know, taking a shot in this game is supposed to be equivalent to losing,” Zexion says. “You’re not meant to want to drink.”

“On the contrary, I suspect he didn’t want to answer the question, for whatever bizarre reason. Oh, it’s my turn, is it?”

Vexen’s spin lands on Saïx, which means he has to spin again. The second spin lands on Luxord, who dares him to refill the ice bucket.

“You really couldn’t come up with anything more interesting?” Saïx asks Luxord, as Vexen, ‘refusing to be anyone’s manservant,’ takes a shot before passing the bottle back.

“Bet you loved that indirect kiss, homo,” Larxene says.

The sigil’s passed to Marluxia.

“So speaking of kissing,” she says, the sigil pointing at her. “I dare you to make out with me.

“…That is so unfair,” she’s saying seconds later. “You’d rather give Vexen, Zexion, and Demyx a kiss by proxy than smooch my gorgeous self directly on the lips?”

“Maybe he’s not into chicks,” says Demyx.

“Maybe I don’t fucking care what he’s into,” Larxene snaps back.

Still, she takes her turn, spinning the sigil. It stops at Zexion, and Roxas can’t tell whether or not Larxene’s listening to the dare Zexion gives her because as soon as he’s done talking she demands that Luxord pass the bottle to her. Well, there’s her kiss, direct or not.

“Ooh, I haven’t seen a game of Spin the Sigil since the early days.”

Several of them look up, Roxas included, as Xigbar steps around the circle of sofas and sits down on the armrest beside Saïx. “Count me in, Luxord. I’d love to play.”

“Then consider yourself counted. It’s back to me, anyhow.” Luxord spins the sigil and it lands on Xigbar.

“Dare, is it?” Xigbar shrugs. “‘Kay. Then I dare you to show them your Prince Albert piercing.”

Luxord rises to his feet and Demyx covers his face with his hands and Vexen goggles and Roxas can’t believe anyone would wanna jam a stick of metal in there, of all places… ouch. “Satisfied?” Luxord asks, zipping back up.

“Very. So, whose turn is it next?”

Before long, the sigil’s come back to Roxas. Spinning for his turn, Roxas watches as the sigil goes around, and around, over and over itself until eventually it slows down, until eventually the sharp end is pointing at Saïx.

“Oh.” Roxas leans forward. “Sorry. I’ll spin again.”

“No, that’s fine.” Saïx smiles. “I’d like to play, if that’s all right with everyone.”

No one seems to have a problem with it, and it doesn’t make a difference to Roxas, either—he already knows what he’ll say regardless of who asks him. So he says, “Truth,” to Saïx, in the same way he would have said it to whoever the sigil landed on.

“Roxas,” says Saix, turning to face him. “Truth, is that it?”

Roxas looks up from Axel’s thigh. “Yeah. Truth.”

“All right. Truth.”

Saïx shuts his eyes for a moment. Hopefully his question will make a lot more sense than Demyx’s did. And maybe, if Roxas is lucky, Saïx's question will help Roxas take his mind off how much he wishes it could be his hand on Axel’s thigh. Or Axel’s hand on his thigh. Or—

Saïx smiles through his scar, his eyes cold as the moon as he peers down at Roxas with a tilt of his head. “Truth, Roxas. You have a crush on Axel, don’t you?”

Larxene claps a hand to her mouth, suppressing a noise, and Xigbar slaps Saïx’s shoulder, laughing, “You dog!” and Axel turns to Saïx, kind of suddenly, Roxas feels it on his left.

So Roxas has to ask. “What’s a crush?”

“Such juvenile terminology,” Vexen mutters. “Roxas, to have a crush on someone is to have taken an interest in them that is more than friendly and borderline romantic.”

More than friendly… as in more than friends? As in he wants to be more than just friends with Axel?

“Well, Roxas?” says Saïx.

Since when was the music so loud? It’s thudding in Roxas’s chest, where a heartbeat’s supposed to be. Roxas wouldn’t know. He wouldn’t know. His stare has landed on the sigil in the center of the table, which is still pointing at Saïx. Saïx hadn’t even been playing.

“Why would you ask me something like that?” Roxas says, slowly, his face burning up all the way to his lashes.

“Oh my, please tell me I’m not the only one who can SEE how he’s blushing!” Larxene exclaims, toying with each word. “Even if he takes a shot, we’ll all still know the real answer!” Shut up, Larxene. Shut UP.

“Saïx, what the hell?”

“Roxas,” says Saïx, apparently ignoring Axel, “you can answer the question, or you can take a shot, as Larxene’s suggested.”

“Heheh. I wonder. Hey, Luxord!” Xigbar calls out. “What happens if you lie on your turn?”

“We’re all abiding by the code of honor,” says Luxord, tapping a finger on the armrest—Roxas can see it tapping in the corner of his eye, the hand of a clock ticking down to zero. “I suppose you’re free to lie, but where’s the fun in that?”

Any fun Roxas was having got up and left the moment Saïx got here. Like there’d be any point in lying, anyway. And it’s not worth asking Luxord to pass the bottle over—because Larxene’s right. Even if Roxas takes a shot or whatever, they’ll all know why he didn’t want to answer.

“Roxas—”



He doesn’t look at Axel. “Fine. Whatever. Yeah, I guess I do.” He forces it out, loud enough that anyone can hear it and from the way the table shuts up, finally, it sounds like everyone does.

“What’d you say, tiger? Not sure this side of the table really caught that.”

Roxas brings his shoulders to his ears. “I said I guess I do,” he bites out, louder.

Demyx goes, Oh come on, why is everyone around here so gay? and Vexen replies, And that upsets you why? and the beat of the stupid music pounding through Roxas’s head, just as bad as a headache, or worse.

But then there’s a hand on Roxas’s shoulder, although it takes him a second to realize who’s hand it is. Which is so dumb. Axel’s been sitting beside him this whole entire time.

“Hey… Roxas?”

Roxas should be happy—excited—that Axel’s hand is on his shoulder. That Axel’s hand squeezes his shoulder. The way Saïx was squeezing Axel’s thigh. Is squeezing. Saïx’s hand is still—Dammit, who CARES. This whole thing is—

“You don’t really mean that, do you?”

Roxas glares at the floor. This whole thing is the worst and worse still is that there’s no undoing it. He can feel the redness on his face—fine, his blush, if you want to call it that—burning all the way up to his forehead. “What do you think. Why would I have lied and said yes?”

“…” Axel pauses. Hesitates. He’s not making eye contact. “…Guess that… makes sense. But…”

“Axel. It’s your turn.”

Axel sits up, lowers his hand. Oh. Roxas kind of really liked his hand there. “Fine. Whatever,” says Axel, pressing his lips together beneath narrowed eyes. The sigil’s spinning a moment later. When it comes to a stop, it stops with the sharp end pointing in Marluxia’s direction.

“Dare,” says Axel, folding his arms.

“Hey, no cheating! They’re cheating,” Demyx complains—Larxene’s cupping a hand over Marluxia’s ear and leaning in to whisper. Roxas really, really liked Axel’s hand there.

Zexion points out that he’s not so sure this is the kind of game one can cheat at, but Xigbar waves them all off, saying, “Nah, it’s fine. There’re no rules against giving each other ideas, right, Luxord?”

Apparently Xigbar’s right and there aren’t. So Larxene whispers whatever else she has to whisper to Marluxia and then she sits back down in her wedge of the sofa, flashing a smile that Roxas can only describe as mean. Marluxia’s smiling too, although Roxas wouldn’t even know where to begin with describing the smile on Marluxia's face. All he knows is that he doesn’t like it.

They’re all waiting for Marluxia to say what Larxene whispered to him and Marluxia knows it. Sitting up, Marluxia brings his hand to his chin, fingers curled just beneath that smile, whatever it is, drawing the whole table to attention.

“Axel.”

Larxene’s biting her lip, apparently trying so hard not to laugh.

“I dare you,” Marluxia says, slowly, “to put Roxas out of his misery by kissing him on the lips. Well, with your partner’s permission, of course.”

Roxas is... is nearly blinded by anger. He tries to keep it in, to swallow it before it can burst out on his cheeks and make everyone think he’s blushing again, blushing harder than he was before—because he’s not. He’s just angry. He's so angry. So angry that Larxene has been laughing at him all night. That Saïx gets to be Axel’s partner. That Marluxia had to add that last part, because Saïx is never gonna let Axel do something like that, not when—

“All right,” says Saïx. “Permission granted.”

Roxas blinks. Then—

“Are you kidding?” Axel snaps. “Just a second ago you told Larxene to stop manhandling me.”

“Hey! I do not manhandle—”

“I have no problem with it, Axel.”

“So what, just because you’re okay with it means I hafta be, too? I’m not gonna do that to him.”

Roxas frowns, squeezing his fists in his lap. He’s never seen so much of his shoes in his life, not that he’s lived through all that many days so far. But he’s never stared at his shoes this hard. He knows that much. “I’m right here,” he says. “You don’t have to talk about me like I’m not.”

Axel pauses, glancing at Roxas. “…I’m not gonna do that to you,” he says. “You guys are all screwed in the head if you think he’s some wind-up toy you can shove around.”

“Now, now, we don’t think that.” Xigbar laughs. “That’s what Little Poppet is for.”

“Do you want the flask, Axel?” Holding it by the neck, Luxord shakes the bottle. “You always have the option of forfeiting your turn… if you don’t mind losing,”

“Come now, do you really think that’s fair?” Saïx replies. “Everyone else has played the game properly. Including Roxas, as we all just saw.”

Frustrated, still squeezing his fists, Roxas lets out a sigh he’s sure they won’t hear, not when they’ve started talking over one another.

It seems like Axel hears it, though. “Some of these guys are so stupid, huh, Roxas? Still,” he mutters under his breath, “didn’t think they’d be THIS stupid…”

Yeah, they’re stupid. Thing is, though, Roxas’s anger has turned to hurt, and not because of them. Axel picks up on a little of that, too, when Roxas doesn’t say anything back. “Roxas,” he says. “Talk to me. What is it?”

“I…” Roxas grits his teeth. Squeezes his hands harder. Frowns even harder than that. “I wouldn’t mind,” he mutters, under his breath. “If you wanted to just do it and shut them up. We can do it. If you wanna just do it. I don’t care.”

“You mean...”

“We can do it,” Roxas says. “You don’t have to hold back ‘cause of me.”

“Roxas—” Axel wets his lips. He lowers his voice even more until he’s practically whispering. “But—I can’t—You SURE?”

“Yeah. I wouldn’t mind at all. I mean…” Roxas’s cheeks are burning, hurting. “I meant what I said before.”

“No, I get it. But…” Axel sighs. “Don’t you see, Roxas? They know that. That’s why they’re messing with you.”

“So what. So what if it’s all a joke to them. I don’t care.” After a pause, Roxas shakes his head. “You know what, never mind. It doesn’t matter. I’m just being stupid.”

Axel’s eyes widen at that. “What? Since when’re you the one who’s being stupid?”

“Because,” Roxas mutters. “Because a part of me got excited when Saïx said he was fine with you doing that dare with me. Even though I know you’re with Saïx. I was happy that for a moment I’d get to know what it would be like if I got to be with you.”

Axel stares at him.

And then Roxas is staring at Axel’s cheek up close. He’s seeing how Axel’s lashes weave together when Axel shuts his eyes. He’s seeing the strands of his hair that fall over Axel’s face.

And he’s seeing it all through wide eyes, and he’s not saying anything else because he can’t. Not when Axel’s suddenly pulled Roxas close, grabbing him by the shoulders. Not when Axel’s pressed his lips to Roxas’s. Not when Axel is pressing his lips to Roxas’s and isn’t taking them away.

Larxene’s exclaiming something and Xigbar’s laughing and Marluxia’s muttering words and the music blows up the speakers and Roxas’s lashes flutter, shutting out every sound with each blink. He’s trembling. He’s—

Gosh.

His cheek must be so hot against Axel’s. He almost wants to apologize for it. Then run face first into his bedroom to bury his red hot burning face into his pillow and maybe yell into it.

But more than any of that he wants this. This kiss. To not stop. It’s the only one he’ll get and he wants it to not stop.

Loosening their hold, one of Axel’s hands slides up Roxas’s neck to rest just behind his head. Axel tucks his thumb under Roxas’s ear, making Roxas think he should tilt his head a little. When Roxas does, he feels a shiver rush into his hands, and—maybe without thinking—no, definitely without thinking—he puts his hands on Axel’s chest. Whoa. Axel’s big chest. Axel’s chest is so big…

Axel’s kiss is so soft and his breath is warm and Axel’s mouth opens and Roxas opens his mouth and…

…and that’s when Axel stops. That’s when Axel pulls back and holds Roxas at arms’ length before letting go altogether. Roxas’s whole mouth feels wet and he could wipe it off with the back of his hand like Axel’s doing now. But he doesn’t.

He watches, breathing fast, as Axel wipes their… their kiss away. As Axel sits back into the sofa, staring not at Roxas.

Saïx reaches up a hand and combs Axel’s hair back for him, his other hand sliding down Axel’s thigh to his knee.

“Your turn next, Saïx,” says Axel, looking up at him. “Since you’re playing now.”

But Roxas couldn’t care less where Saïx’s spin lands or whether Saïx goes with Dare or Truth or where on Axel’s body Saïx is gonna put his hand next or anything. He stands up, still not wiping their kiss away. “I…I’m gonna get some soda,” he says, more to the tabletop than to anyone, then awkwardly squeezes through Zexion and Luxord to head back to the table where the drinks are.

...What a mess. Almost everything on top of the table has spilled over. Red cups are scattered everywhere, most of them laying on their side, making puddles on the filmy tablecloth. Impossible to tell which cup was his, so he grabs a new one from what’s left of the tower.

The crystal soda was the sweet one, right? A lot of these bottles look the same. They’re all green as a pair of bright emerald eyes and they all have a sticker as red as Axel’s hair slapped on the front and he has to stop thinking about Axel already.

He has to. He can’t keep thinking about Axel.

Because Axel’s…

He shouldn’t look. He came over here so he wouldn’t have to see anymore. He doesn’t WANT to watch.

He pulls himself back to the mess on the table, back to the empty cup in his hand. Then he sets the cup on the table, upright for whoever else wants a new cup, and turns and walks out.

---

Roxas doesn’t know where he’s going. Just that he needs to go. He’s blinking fast. He ends up walking into the communal bathroom, which is just off to the left of the Hall of Empty Melodies, far away enough from the party but not so far that you can’t still feel the bass of the music thrumming through the floor from here.

Seeing as all the bathroom stalls are wide open, it looks like he’ll get to be alone in here, so that’s something.

As he heads straight for the stall at the back of the row, Roxas happens to catch a glimpse of his face in one of the mirrors above the sinks. His burning red face. Which is burning up even harder knowing that they all saw him like this. That Axel saw him like this. Bright red and burning up. Like a kid about to cry.

But just because he doesn’t know the same things everyone else does—and just because he happens to be a little bit shorter than everyone else—and just because he doesn’t have that many memories to go off—doesn’t mean he’s some kid. Right?

Whatever. It doesn’t make a difference, anyway.

The last thing Roxas sees in the mirror before he swings the door shut and locks it behind him is a frown. Like Axel’s going to see Roxas the way Roxas wants him to. The way Roxas hoped he would.

Roxas sits down on the shut lid. On the back of the stall door, someone’s scrawled For a good time, call XXX-XXX-XXXX!. 

…Is that supposed to be a joke?

Not like Roxas could even go “ha ha” at anything that’s actually funny right now. You laugh with friends. When you’re having fun.

Roxas wipes his hand over his eyes. You laugh when you’re with someone you like. Axel taught him that, in more ways than one.

Roxas’s glove’s wet when he pulls his hand back and so are his eyes, his face. He wipes his eyes again, but not fast enough. A few tears slink down his cheeks.

Wish he’d known that Axel and Saïx were together from the start. Wish Axel and Saïx weren’t together. Wish he was with Axel the way Axel’s with Saïx.

Wish Axel could kiss him and mean it.

...Still, though. Axel kissed him. Axel. Kissed him. Roxas’s first kiss. Technically. Even if it was for a game. It still counts, right? It had felt good.

It had felt really good…

Axel’s mouth had felt so warm on his. And soft, too. Really soft, and gentle, pressing but not moving on Roxas’s lips, which wouldn’t have been moving either if Roxas hadn’t been trembling so much.

He liked the way Axel had been holding him, his grip on Roxas’s arms going from firm to easy, like he was enjoying it, too… like he wanted to keep going, same as Roxas did. Like he didn’t want to stop…

Letting out a sigh through his nose, Roxas sits back, staring up at the ceiling. Like Axel didn’t want to stop, huh…

Slowly, privately, Roxas pulls up the lower zipper of his black denim jacket, exposing the crotch, button, and fly of his jeans. Though his vision’s still a little blurry from the tears, he stares at himself. …He’s.

Hard. He’s been hard since Axel kissed him. And he’s getting harder thinking about their kiss, thinking about how much... how much he wanted them to do more than kiss—though he’d probably want to do that somewhere more private, you know, like not right there on the sofa in front of everyone.

To be honest, he’s not entirely sure just how the whole ‘more than kissing’ thing works, but if Axel could teach him how to laugh and make friends and even how to kiss, too, then… maybe Axel could show him how to do that kind of thing, as well.

Blinking, thinking about it, Roxas pushes his hand between his legs and touches the crotch of his pants.

It’s hard not to want to. He can’t help it.

The outline of his dick’s pretty obvious through his jeans, thick and full against the stitching. Roxas lets out a breath as he runs his fingers along the curve of it. He takes it in his hand (as much as he can when it’s covered by denim) and squeezes his hand, imagining his hand is Axel’s hand, that Axel’s, I dunno, on his knees in front of him, that it’s Axel who’s doing this to him right now. How great Axel’s face would look framed by Roxas’s legs.

Whoa. Really great…

Axel’s mouth would be so close to Roxas’s dick. M...Maybe he could do something about his mouth being right there.

Like put it on Roxas’s…

Footfalls stumble into the bathroom and rush toward one of the stalls in a hurry. Roxas freezes, his hand stopping in place.

The footfalls come to a sudden halt only to be replaced by... ugh, NOT the kind of sound you want in the background when you’re doing this.

Roxas wipes his hand on his leg and slowly, quietly pulls the zipper of his coat back down until he’s covered. He’s still hard, but he doubts he’ll keep it up much longer, especially not with what’s going on a few stalls down.

Blinking a few times, making sure there aren’t any wet spots left on his face, Roxas stands up and flushes the toilet like that’s what he came in for. Then he opens the stall door and comes out.

“Is everything okay?” he asks, surprised to find Vexen leaning against one of the stalls.

That sound again. Roxas winces. 

“No,” says Vexen. “Someone’s gone ahead and drunk more than his body was ready to handle.”

“I’m totally… Totally fine… ugh… okay, maybe not…”

“Anyway, Roxas,” Vexen continues, barely reacting as Demyx lets out another hurl, “Axel wants you.”

For a second there Roxas doesn’t hear the next gross sound Demyx blurts out. Vexen definitely wouldn’t have meant it in THAT way. But still. It catches him off-guard.

Vexen rolls his eyes. “Yes, ‘really’. No need to be slack-jawed and bug-eyed about it.”

“Did he say why?”

“He did not. All I know is that he’s looking for you.”

Roxas hadn’t had any intention of going anywhere other than straight to bed from here, but if Axel’s looking for him…

Honestly, Axel probably wants to check in on him, like he said he would at the start of the night. Roxas did walk out on the party like that, after all.

“Okay. Uh, thanks, Vexen. Tell Demyx I said get well soon.”

“Once he’s got his ears out of the porcelain, I shall.”

Though a part of Roxas really wants Axel to stop worrying about him like it’s his job, another part of him is kind of happy that Axel’s at least got him on his mind.

Adjusting his coat, Roxas glances in the mirror (okay, the redness has worn off—mostly) and heads back to the party.

---

Whatever happened while he was in the bathroom, the party’s dispersed again. Apparently no one’s playing Spin the Sigil any more—now only Xigbar and Marluxia are sitting in the sofa area, tipping cups back and staring above the plastic rims at the other side of the room.

Roxas follows their line of sight, squinting. Are the lights dimmer than before? The music’s definitely louder than before. A small group’s gathered on the dance floor, red cups in the air and hands above heads. Someone must’ve summoned a bunch of Dusks, too, because they’re weaving in and out of the dance floor silverly, twisting and zipping in time with the music.

Roxas stares. The upper zipper of Larxene’s jacket has come so undone that you can actually see her chest jumping as she dances and laughs. And how is Zexion not being crushed the way Lexaeus is grabbing him and pulling him close and wait, are they kissing?

And if Axel was looking for him, you’d never guess from the way Axel's got his body up against Saïx’s right now, Saïx’s hands on his hips, Axel’s backside rubbing on Saïx’s lap…

Just as Roxas is about to leave and stay gone for the night, Axel calls out to him. He shakes free from Saïx and comes over to Roxas, stopping him before he can go anywhere. Figures.

“Vexen said you wanted me?” says Roxas. Yeah, he says it like that on purpose.

He likes the way Axel notices. How Axel draws back a little bit, raising his eyebrows an inch. “Y-Yeah,” says Axel, blinking. “Come on. Let’s go sit down. Hey, did you need another drink?”

The sight of Demyx retching flashes in Roxas’s mind. “No thanks.”

“Sure. So, about before…” Axel sits down on the same sofa they were sat in before. He sets his cup on the table, then pats the spot beside him.

Roxas sits down. “Yeah?”

Axel lowers his voice. “I wanted to ask you something. About before. You… definitely see me that way, right? You weren’t just blurting it out in the heat of the moment ‘cuz you were under the pump to answer or…?”

“No.” Roxas brings his shoulders to his ears. “I already told you. I meant what I said, Axel.”



“Right. Yeah. Okay…” Axel crosses his arms. “Um.”





Roxas waits, not sure where this is going.

Axel lets out a sigh. “This is so…” he mutters under his breath.

“What is it?”

Axel presses his lips together. “So if we were to do what we did before, but properly this time, I guess you wouldn’t be against the idea?”

“What?” Then it hits Roxas. “You mean kiss? But…” A thousand thoughts run through his mind, scattered. “But aren’t you and Saïx—”

“I know,” Axel says fast, making a face. “Saïx and I are… involved. But listen to me. A buncha people saw the way you walked out before, so I got given this order to make it up to you. Lift your spirits, you know. Cheer you up.”

That makes sense. And it doesn’t. “Wouldn’t Saïx hate that, though?”

Axel rubs his hand over the nape of his neck. “Whole thing was his idea, actually.”

Roxas lifts his head, glancing over at the dance floor, except Saïx isn’t there any more. He’s moved—he’s over near the drinks table now, pouring something into his cup then setting it down without looking at it once. His stare is fixed on Axel. Or on Roxas. Or on the both of them—it’s hard to tell from here. What Roxas can tell, though, is that Saïx is watching at least one of them.

“Look,” says Axel, drawing Roxas back, “if you don’t wanna do it again, that’s fine. Just because I was ordered to cheer you up in that way doesn’t mean you should be forced to go through with it. …Honestly, it’s probably for the better if you tell me to back off.”

“I’m not gonna tell you that.” Roxas frowns. “But I don’t want you to do it just because someone else said you had to.”

“Yeah, I— Wait, hold on a sec. Roxas. You do know that when we did it before...”

Axel’s not wrong. It does sound like Roxas is contradicting himself. He’s… not. It’s just… “…Yeah. I know,” he says. “But that was before I knew how much I’d like it. And before I knew how much I’d hate knowing I was the only one who liked it.”

Axel's taken aback for a second. Then he ducks his head a little, his face coming close to Roxas’s like he has a secret. “Now. Who said I didn’t like it?”

Roxas blinks. “W…Well, I guess you didn’t say that… But you did make it sound like you didn’t want to do that stupid dare. I mean, you kept telling them to knock it off, so I figured that when you, umm, when you went ahead with it, you weren’t enjoying it at all. So I felt even worse about how much I was enjoying it.”

Scratching the back of his head, Axel laughs, awkwardly? Airily? What’s so funny… Axel’s always a little red around the eyes, but for a second there it looks like the rest of his face is reddening up to match… or it’s a trick of the light. Why would Axel be blushing?



“I’ve gotta tell you, Roxas, before you get the wrong idea. To tell you the truth, I was…Don’t take this the wrong way, okay? I know I shouldn’t have. Wasn’t supposed to. But. I was… enjoying it just as much as you were. Maybe more.”

Oh. That's why Axel's blushing.

…THAT’S why?

“Y…You were!?”

“Shh.” Axel hushes, leaning in a little, a finger to his lips. Roxas’s breath is trapped in his throat—Axel’s really close to him now. “Yeah, I was. Which is why I didn’t wanna go ahead with that dare.”

Inside his gloves, Roxas’s hands are getting clammy. He’d wipe them down on his thighs, but… well, he’s wearing gloves. So what would be the point. He blinks faster. “W…What do you mean? So you didn’t want to do it?” Now Axel’s the one contradicting himself.

Axel sighs, tucking a strand of hand behind his hair. “Geez, Roxas, do I really have to spell it out to you? I didn’t wanna go ahead with it because I knew that once I got my hands on you, I wouldn’t be able to keep them off.”

“Then.” Roxas blinks rapidly. “This whole time…”



“Yeah. Way more than I should have. Y’know, I wasn’t gonna do anything about it, but then you admitted what you did and I figured—”

“Wait,” Roxas interrupts, his mind scrambling. “Does Saïx know? And he’s okay with it?” 

Axel glances over at Saïx, still standing there by the drinks table with his cup.

“Well,” says Axel. “I mean, he wouldn’t’ve ordered me to patch things up with you like this if he had a problem with it. But c’mon, we shouldn’t have to chit-chat about your boss right now.”

Roxas looks down between them—whoa. Since when have they been sitting this close to each other?

“Why would it be better if I told you to back off?” he asks Axel.

“‘Cuz… I’m really, really not supposed to want you.”

“But you said Saïx doesn’t mind.”



“That’s not what I mean.”

“I am so lost.”

“Saïx put me in charge of looking after you. Remember? I’m your, you know. Your mentor. Supposed to take care of you.”

“Yeah, I know. But why does that mean you should back off?”



“Well, cuz… Cuz you’re…” Axel purses his lips, thinking. Then he sighs. “Don’t worry about it.”

Roxas won’t let up that easily. “‘Cuz I’m what? A kid?”

“Right…”

“I’m NOT a kid.”

Axel looks Roxas up and down. “Yeah. ‘Course you’re not. But, you know. Still. You ARE my responsibility. So I’ve gotta make sure I do the right thing.”

“Well, won’t you get in trouble if you don’t follow your orders?” Roxas asks. “I mean, wouldn’t that be the wrong thing to do?”

“Yeah, but…”

“I’m only against it if you don’t want to do it,” Roxas says, slowly, to make it as clear as possible. “If you do, then… Then I’m not against it. Then I want to do it, too.”

They’re close enough that Roxas can almost feel the dips and rises of Axel’s chest as Axel’s breathing speeds up. Axel wets his lips, red and soft and Roxas wants to kiss them again. Properly. Whether Axel was ordered to or not. (Who knows why Saïx would order him to do something like that in the first place, but… maybe he can think about that later.)

“Roxas. You’re sure?”

“Yeah. Absolutely.”

“You’re definitely sure?” Axel murmurs, setting his hand on Roxas’s arm, letting it slide up along his sleeve. The black denim creases beneath his fingers.

“Uh huh,” Roxas breathes. He turns in his seat. “But…”

“Yeah?”

“If we’re doing it properly, then…”

“Then what?”



“Can I put my hands on your chest again?”

“Yeah, you can put them on my chest. Roxas…” Axel pauses an inch away from Roxas’s face, from Roxas’s mouth. “You’re really, definitely, a hundred percent sure you want this?”

“How many times do I have to say it,” Roxas huffs, more breathlessly than annoyed, and pushes his hands into Axel’s chest and his mouth on to Axel’s.

“Mm—” Axel makes a sound. He breaks for air. “Fuck—!”

“Whoa. Who dared them?” Xigbar asks, not like Roxas is gonna answer that, because Axel’s grabbing Roxas’s face with both hands, covering his mouth with his own. Kissing him back. Hard.

“It certainly wasn’t me this time.” Marluxia’s voice—Roxas can hear that mysterious smile in it.

“Hey hey, ease up, Axel,” Xigbar laughs, as Axel licks along Roxas’s mouth where anyone can see, prizing Roxas’s lips apart and dipping his tongue in. Gosh, Axel wasn’t kidding, this is really… It’s definitely a real kiss… “He’s just a kid.”

His hands braced on Axel’s chest, Roxas breaks free from their kiss—not because he’s doesn’t want it—he does want it—but so he can wrench his head to the side to shoot a glare at Xigbar. “Don’t call me that. I’m not a kid,” he manages to get out, before his mouth’s back on Axel’s, open and begging Axel without words to put his tongue back in, groaning when Axel does.

“Y’sure look like one to me,” comes Xigbar’s voice, though Roxas tries to block it out. “Wonder what that says about Flamesilocks here.”

A third voice—Saïx—glides over and states something in reply but Roxas isn’t listening, doesn’t hear anything but the low, hot growl Axel makes into Roxas’s mouth as their tongues touch. Axel tastes sweet and bitter, and Roxas, having never done anything like this with his tongue before, almost has no idea what to do with his at first, but Axel knows. Axel shows him. So Roxas follows Axel’s lead as if Axel’s still his mentor even in this. Even in something as clocked out and logged off as this.

Roxas breaks for air again, panting.

He gets one or two breaths in before his hands are pushing into Axel’s chest again. Before Axel’s taking his mouth again, covering it, wetting it.

This is kissing? Makes what they did before feel like barely touching.

When Axel takes Roxas’s lower lip between his teeth, nipping, biting, Roxas lets out a cry that fizzes hot and soft in Axel’s mouth. Roxas slides his hands up Axel’s chest. Holds on to Axel’s shoulders, fingers curled just beneath the shrug of Axel's hood.

He moves without meaning to, sinking backward, pulling Axel with him. Eventually Roxas is laying on his back on the sofa and Axel’s on top of him. Their legs tangle and untangle as they adjust themselves.

It throws off their kiss, sure, but when one of Axel’s knees ends up between Roxas’s legs, how can he complain. Besides, Axel’s mouth’s already sinking back down on Roxas like they only broke to breathe.

Roxas couldn’t even think about complaining, not when both his legs are spread a little to fit Axel’s thigh in. His dick’s still hard from before—no, harder than before. Hardest he’s been all night, and feeling really—really—good pressed hard against Axel’s thigh right now.

Xigbar laughs, Marluxia hums, and Saïx, sitting with both hands clasped over his knee in the same seat Luxord had claimed before, murmurs something Roxas doesn’t care to make out. All three of them and everyone else kind of fades into the music as Axel, gazing down at Roxas—his mouth hanging open, hairs hanging over his face, some of it sticking to the—is that—sweat?—on his forehead—pushes himself up a little. Axel groans, “Don’t wanna take it easy, huh?”

Roxas could answer him (as if Axel’s really asking). Or he could scoot closer.

He scoots closer. Lets his dick slide against Axel’s thigh, thick and aching his jeans. Axel’s eyes go wide and he looks down, fast. He pulls his thigh back.

“C’mon,” Axel mutters, not making eye contact. “This is fun and all, but… we should—fuck—really stop…”

Roxas doesn’t want to admit it, but Axel’s right. This has already been way more of a kiss than he expected Axel to give him. He shouldn’t get greedy. If they end it here, it wouldn’t be so bad, would it? He could still retreat to his room and take care of the rest himself, thinking about Axel the whole time, about this.

It’ll still suck that Axel’s with Saïx, and it’ll really suck knowing that Axel wants him enough to kiss him like this, but at least they even get to have this at all. Right?

“Axel.” Saïx’s voice cleaves in from the left. “Is he hard?”

Axel doesn’t even lift his head to look at Saïx. Barely even unlocks his lips from Roxas’s to breathe, his gaze darting down between them to look at—okay, even if you don’t have it pressing up against your thigh, it’s pretty obvious—at the pretty obvious jut of Roxas’s dick against Axel’s thigh.

Axel bites his lip. “Really hard…”

“Do you want to fuck him?”

Axel drags his gaze up Roxas’s body. Their eyes meet. That look in Axel’s eyes… Roxas had better forget it. He can't let himself get it memorized. If it stays there, in his memory, he’s never gonna get over the fact that he can’t be with Axel. Ever. Because Axel's...

Lashes batting hotly, his lips wet, Axel rakes his gaze down and up Roxas’s body again.

“Yes or no,” says Saïx.

“Heh heh. Twisted sense of humor ya got there, Saïx. Axel’s a lost cause, but y’should at least leave Roxas be. You know he’s still wet behind the ears.”

Letting out a huff of a breath, Roxas shoves his butt down toward the other end of the sofa, shoving his dick into Axel’s thigh again, about to grind harder—only what actually happens is that he pushes Axel’s propped up knee backward. Slipping, Axel lands flush on top of Roxas.

Roxas hears it, in the shell of his ear, how Axel’s breath catches in his throat.

Gosh, and Roxas thought he was hard.

If Roxas can feel Axel through the coats and zippers and layers of denim between them… wow.

Axel’s gotta be huge.

“Axel. Do you want to fuck him?”

“…Fuck.” Whether he’s realizing it or not, Axel’s grinding against Roxas a little as he kisses him. “C—‘Course I wanna. Fuck. Roxas. I wanna fuck you so good.”

Roxas groans. He’s figuring out pretty quickly what that word means. “S-Same,” he pants, pushing his hips up, getting more of Axel’s dick against his.

“Then do it,” says Saïx.

“Ever… ever done something like that before?” Axel’s voice grazes the underside of Roxas’s chin. “With anyone?”

“No. Never.” …He barely knows what ‘it’ is. Sounds great to him, though, if it means more of this. If it means so much more of this with Axel.

“That’s okay. Everyone’s gotta start at some point, right? Want me to show you how it’s done?”

“Yeah.” Roxas pants, agreeing, nodding into Axel’s hair. Yeah. “Please. Axel.”

“Mm. All right. Then maybe you can roll on to your front for me?”

Propping himself up, Axel makes just enough space on the sofa for Roxas to roll over and on to his front. His legs spread, knees hugging Roxas's legs, Axel straddles Roxas from behind. His cock presses into Roxas’s butt through their layers and layers of clothes.

A glance back over his shoulder and Roxas gets to watch as Axel's bulge strains against the lower zipper of Axel's coat, nudging it open tooth by tooth until it comes apart over his jeans.

“Horny, Roxas?” Axel asks, as Roxas shifts his hips a little, making a sound.

Roxas shifts his hips again, getting the most out of the pressure pinning his dick to the sofa. The sofa’s really not comfortable. But he’s gotta say, it feels great right now, so hard against his dick, hard and firm, and really, really easy to hump against, so… he can’t help it… And Axel’s on top of him… rubbing his cock into him…

“Oh, I see,” says Axel, pressing his palm into the dip of Roxas’s lower back, giving Roxas more of the sofa to grind against. “You’re really horny, huh?”

“Like I’m the only one,” Roxas huffs, having figured out what Axel means. “Your zipper’s coming undone.”

Axel looks down at himself, staying his hand. “Right. I should do something about that, don’t you think?”

Pulling at the silver tab, Axel feeds out the rest of the lower zipper until the silky, tight skin of his belly’s on display. Doesn’t he wear a SHIRT under his clothes? …Not that he should. Someone whistles—Xigbar, probably. For a second there Roxas almost forgot Xigbar was here. But Axel pulls Roxas back, murmuring for him to lift his ass up a little more, yeah. That’s it, Roxas…

“You’re doing really well,” Axel murmurs, grinding right into the seam of Roxas’s jeans.

Thanks to how Axel’s got Roxas’s on his knees with his butt pushed up, the press of the sofa’s gone and the only thing on Roxas’s dick now is his underwear and his jeans and okay the air if you really wanna be specific. Roxas makes a muffled sound, a little disgruntled that he’s got nothing to grind against while Axel’s rocking into him, moaning. Roxas wants to enjoy that.

But when he reaches underneath to touch himself, Axel catches his hand, stopping him.

“You’re gonna pull a muscle doing that,” Axel says, squeezing Roxas’s hand. “Here. Leave it to me.”

Letting go, Axel brings his hand to just below Roxas’s belly, his fingertips this close to touching Roxas’s dick. They’d be touching it already if they didn’t have the fly of Roxas’s jeans to fumble with first.

“Need me to get that?” Roxas asks, glancing back over his shoulder.

“Hm-hm.” Axel shakes his head. “Don’t worry, I’m not gonna leave you hanging. There we go.” A flick of his fingers and the button’s popped free. The fly’s come undone barely a second later. Then Axel’s dipping his hand into Roxas’s underwear, fingers first.

Roxas swears he’s never been so hard. He’s probably leaking with precum, too. Wait, he’d better warn Axel before Axel gets any of it on his gloves… though on second thought that would be pretty hot…

“Sheesh,” breathes Axel, and as for Roxas his breath catches in his throat—Axel’s wraps his hand around Roxas’s dick. “You really are hard…”

There’s a sudden tug from Axel’s other hand, which has grabbed Roxas’s jeans from behind by the waistband. Another tug and Axel yanks the waistband down—whoa!

“Hey!” Roxas turns his head fast—what the hell? “What are you doing?”

Axel pauses mid-tug. “You want me to cut a hole in them instead?”

Marluxia hums with laughter where he’s sitting on the other sofa. Roxas lowers his head self-consciously.

“Roxas, if you want me to dick you down to the socks, I’m gonna need to get these off first.”

“Y-Yeah, but—” But—Axel’s eyes aren’t the only pair on him and Roxas knows it. He lowers his voice. “Do they have to see?”

Axel sits back on his heels. “Hrmm. Y’know what,” he says. “This sofa IS kinda shallow… Feels like my knee’s gonna slip off the edge any second. Gimme a sec, I’m just gonna…”

Lifting up Roxas by the chest, Axel spins him around until he’s facing the back of the sofa. He props Roxas up on his knees and stands over Roxas from behind, patting Roxas’s butt and rubbing it through Roxas’s jeans. Like this, they’ve got their backs turned to Saïx and Xigbar and Marluxia. That’s way better.

“You okay with this, Saïx?” Xigbar comments, laughing. “How’re we really gonna know if Axel—”

“Don’t worry,” Axel replies, glancing back at Xigbar, Saïx, and Marluxia—Roxas can hear the smile on Axel’s face. “You’ll know.”

With his arms resting against the back of the sofa like this, Roxas is facing the dance floor on the other side of the room, but he’s not watching it right now. He’s too distracted by how Axel’s tugging his jeans down. How the cool air hits his ass when the back pockets of his jeans are pulled down to his knees. When his underwear’s pulled down with.

He should be feeling exposed. Though he’s still wearing his coat—it’s gathered up in Axel’s hand, which is pinning it to the small of his back, just above his butt—and though he’s still got his boots on, and his gloves (and unlike Axel, he wears a shirt under his coat, so that’s still on, too) he should be feeling naked right now, on display, but…

But Axel’s coat’s draping over the both of them, like a curtain. Which means Axel’s the only one who can see Roxas’s backside right now, his legs, the underwear he wears, pooled at his knees. He doesn’t feel awkward, naked, self-conscious, any of those things, not when Axel’s the only one seeing.

He wanted Axel to see, after all. So he’s excited.

Okay, really excited. And hopeful. Really hopeful Axel likes what he sees.

Another button pops and another zipper comes undone and something’s pressing up against Roxas’s butt—pressing up hard through thin, silky fabric.

“Sheesh, Roxas,” Axel groans, “you really are so small…”

“H-Hey,” Roxas breathes, almost gasps, as Axel starts stroking his dick again. “Easy for you to say. When you’re so big.”

Axel pulls his gloves off—Roxas hears them flump on to an empty spot of sofa beside them. “You know what sex is, right, Roxas?” Axel murmurs. “Or do you need me to tell you what I’m about to do to your cute little butt?”

‘Cute’? “Come on,” Roxas brings his shoulders to his ears, smiling despite himself, “I’m not cute.” But to answer Axel’s question… “…I guess I don’t really know much about it. S-Sex, I mean.” His face gets even redder when he says the word—as if that’s even possible, given how red he is already.

There’s a soft, wet sound above his head. Glancing up, Roxas sees Axel take two of his long fingers into his mouth, sucking on them, before sliding them out and spitting into them. Roxas flutters his lashes, a little embarrassed. Seeing Axel do that… it’s hot. It's really hot. But it’s so… what’s the word. Adult.

Roxas averts his eyes, annoyed with himself. He’s not a kid.

“Fine, then I’ll tell you. I’m gonna stretch you out with these—” Axel makes a motion with his fingers, wet and shiny, “then I’m gonna fill up your hole with my cock. Sound good?”

“My hole?”



Axel lowers his hand. “This tight little thing,” he says, and slides his fingertip between Roxas’s legs until it’s pressing—

Roxas flinches hard. “Whoa!”

“Shh. Relax,” Axel whispers. “You’ll get used to it.”

Roxas holds his breath as Axel rubs the tip of his finger over his—his hole. His hole. It… makes sense, when you think about it… Axel’s cock’s gotta go SOMEWHERE, right? And the only other hole Roxas can think of for Axel to fill is his mouth. But… He didn’t know you could do that. That that’s what sex even meant.

He’s biting his lip as Axel slides his finger in. It feels so weird. Not bad. Just strange. Different. Is this really something he’ll get used to?

Axel pulls his finger back only to press it in deeper. Roxas lets out a breath, maybe a sigh, as Axel takes his finger out.

Axel rubs Roxas’s hole with his fingertip—okay, that doesn’t feel so bad. Then Axel spits into his hand again and this time the noise Roxas lets out is nearly a cry.

Not just one finger now.

More than one.

Two.

Two of Axel’s fingers, firm and smooth, push wetly in to Roxas’s hole. At first, it’s a lot. But then… this kinda doesn’t feel as weird as just the one finger did. Actually. It feels kinda good. No. Really good.

Roxas lowers his face in his arms, folded on the backrest of the sofa. He’s starting to pant a little and he doesn’t want anyone to hear it. Axel’s fingers push in deeper still—Roxas can feel his hole stretch a little to fit in each of Axel’s knuckles.

“You’re doing so good, Roxas,” Axel murmurs, leaning over him.

Roxas lifts his head. “Y-Yeah? I am?”

“Mhm. Just a little more, and—”

And Roxas throws his head back with a moan. Whatever Axel just did—



“You like that?”

Axel does it again. With a twist of his fingers, he grazes this—this spot inside Roxas that makes Roxas's body tense up, his hole pulse around Axel’s fingers, his cock twitch in Axel’s hand. It feels amazing.

“W…What IS that?”

“That’s what makes sex feel so good,” Axel says, dragging his fingers back before pushing them in again. When he spreads them apart inside Roxas, pushing up into that sweet spot again, what can Roxas do but let out another cry, loud.

Maybe Xigbar has some dumb thing to say about how much noise Roxas makes. And maybe some of the others have started to watch him and Axel from the dance floor. And maybe Saïx is still staring straight at the both of them like the moon stares down in the sky.

But it’s all white noise around Roxas, all of it, ‘cause Axel’s leaning in to him, drawing his hand out, letting go of Roxas’s cock and mouthing along Roxas’s ear, “I’m gonna put it in now, okay, Roxas?”

Breath catching, Roxas turns to watch and gets a pretty great view as Axel sucks those fingers into his mouth, moaning a little at the knuckles—as Axel draws his fingers out, pinches them together and spits into them—as Axel lowers the band of his underwear with his other hand, rubs his fingers and his spit over his cock, wetting it, not that it really needs wetting, not when there’s so much precum at the tip already, some of it starting to drip down the long, thick curve of it—and Roxas is gonna feel that inside him?

Roxas presses his lips together, breathing through his nose. Steadily. It’s so thick. So big. SO big.

It’s so big just to look at, so imagine how it feels—oh gosh—how much bigger it feels when Axel lines up the head of it with Roxas’s small hole until the two are touching.

Roxas gasps, “It’s—Is it gonna fit?”

Skin pulls softly along Roxas’s as Axel strokes his cock long and slow up against his hole. “Relax and trust me,” he says, cupping one side of Roxas’s ass with his other hand and spreading him. Stroking himself some more, Axel rubs his cock against Roxas’s hole. It’s so wet that it’s creamy with spit and precum. “I’ll make it fit.”

Chest swelling, Axel draws in a breath. Then all Roxas sees is the back of the sofa, where his hands are, because he’s burying his face in it and clenching his hands into tight fists and letting out a loud, way too loud cry, a moan, as Axel—pulling Roxas toward him—slips the tip of his cock into Roxas’s hole, pushing it in. It’s so big. It’s so big.

Squeezing Roxas’s butt reassuringly with one hand, Axel props himself up behind Roxas by setting his other hand on the back of the sofa, right next to where Roxas is gripping the edge desperately. “That’s it…”

“Axel,” Roxas breathes, “w…wait…”

It’s not gonna fit. It’s not. Already Roxas is gritting his teeth, squinting both eyes shut, shuddering. His hole’s stretching to fit Axel’s cock. It already feels full. No way it can stretch out any more than this.

Glancing back at where they’re joined, Roxas groans. Axel’s only put the head in. There’s still so much more to go.

“Say when, okay?” Axel squeezes Roxas’s butt again. “I wanna hear more of those cute little moans of yours.”

Roxas could frown, tell Axel not to call him ‘cute’ again. But he's so busy trying to get used to having Axel’s dick inside him.

…He flushes at the thought. Axel’s. Axel’s inside him. Even though it’s just the head so far, he’s—he’s in him. Between his legs, Roxas’s dick twitches. And maybe his hole throbs along with, ‘cause Axel lets out a groan at the same time, low and hot, hand squeezing Roxas’s ass harder.

“When,” Roxas breathes. “Axel, keep—going—” He cuts himself off with another moan as his hole stretches, as Axel gives him more of his cock to fit in it.

Axel groans, pulling his hips back a little before pushing in again. The undone zipper of Axel’s coat grazes gently along Roxas’s thigh as Axel leans in and fills Roxas up to the same point again. Roxas’s vision’s going hazy, but he can still make out the wink Larxene gives him from the dance floor across the room, the words she mouths out at him. Having fun, cherry?

Whatever that means. Roxas shuts his eyes, tuning out everything but the heavy thudding of the music in his chest and the hot slip of Axel’s dick as it slides in and out of him. He’s gotta be taking about half of it now. Gosh. Even if it’s only half, he’s starting to get used to it. He's starting to want more.

His cock’s twitching again, precum dripping down the side. Some of it trickles between his legs, running down his inner thigh.

It’s not like anyone but Axel will be able to see, right? If anyone else could, then he wouldn’t do what he’s doing now, shoving a hand between his legs, grabbing his dick, gasping as the gaps between his fingers fill with so much precum, he can feel it through the gloves. Wetting his lips, blinking and glancing down his front, still with one hand gripping on to the back of the sofa, Roxas starts palming himself.

Axel’s breath catches. “Are you…?”

“Yeah,” Roxas pants, wrapping his hand tighter around his dick and stroking harder.

“Mm.” Axel hums. “Guess there’re some things I don’t hafta show you, huh?”

Roxas pushes his ass back into Axel’s hand, holding back a moan as another inch slips into him. “You can show me what it feels like to have more of your dick in me,” he bites out.

“Thought you’d never ask,” Axel says, and grips Roxas’s waist harder, groaning out a curse as he pulls Roxas into his lap. His hipbones flush against Roxas’s backside, Axel fills Roxas up to the brim with his cock—shoving—the head—straight into that spot he was rubbing with his fingers before—drawing back only to push up into it again. Roxas groans. Roxas groans.

Axel grazes up against that spot inside Roxas with each buck of his hip and Roxas doesn’t even try to hold back his moans. He can care later about the fact that Saïx and Xigbar and Marluxia—and maybe even Larxene—are watching. Right now he’s—not feeling their eyes on him at all. Just the throb of his hole around Axel’s dick as it fills him up him deeper than he thought it could go—and the shivering in his knees, struggling to stay upright on the sofa—and the twinging and jolts of his own cock in his hand as he makes a mess all over his gloves and on the seat of the sofa too.

“Since when’d you get so—oh, sheesh, Roxas,” Axel cuts himself off, groaning, bucking harder, “you’re cumming already?”

Not waiting for an answer (like Roxas can—really give him one—right now—not with how his—with how he’s panting, how he’s pumping his hand over his cock desperately, wringing out the rest of his cum while his body’s still—gosh—still pulsing, his breath tight and coarse) Axel grabs Roxas’s hips with both hands. Digs his nails into Roxas’s skin. Slams himself into Roxas. Pumps his cock into Roxas while. While Roxas’s hand trembles and he lets go of himself, letting Axel take him.

Axel’s. Fuck. Pushing up into that spot. Like. Like Roxas has any more cum left in him. It’s all over his hand. (What’s he supposed to do with his hand while it’s like this? He kinda. Holds it near his thigh, trying to keep it from brushing up against the sofa. It’s already soiled enough. Jeez.) But. Damn. He doesn’t want Axel to stop. At all.

“Shit, I’m not gonna be able to keep it in. Fuck, Roxas. Fuck, I’m—”

“Don’t do it inside him,” says Saïx, and just like that Axel’s groaning and squeezing Roxas’s hips hard and pulling out—Roxas’s thighs tremble as Axel’s dick slips out, fast, but it’s not fast enough and Roxas knows it.

He knows it because he can feel it, one or two throbs in the tightest part of his hole as cum shoots hot and creamy inside his hole and then on his hole, right at the rim, as Axel’s cock slips out fully. Then Axel’s resting his cock on Roxas’s lower back, and whatever’s left of his cum’s coming out on to Roxas’s tailbone in short, sudden spurts. “Fuck,” Axel pants. “Fuck…” A few more spurts, a few more twitches, and then Axel lets out a sigh, spent.

“Double standards, huh, Saïx?” Xigbar’s voice, from across the room. “Yeah, that sounds about right for you.”

One blink at a time, Roxas comes back down to reality. Reality, huh. What’s reality right now but a gloved hand full of cum and a room full of people who’ve watched him have… sex for the first time. Though it’s been been playing all this time, the music hits Roxas’s ears like it’s starting back up again. Axel’s tapping his cock on Roxas’s tailbone once, twice. Then he's lifting it away and tucking it back into his underwear.

A few more blinks and Roxas turns around on the sofa, wiping his hand off on his thigh (without a towel or a box of tissues on hand, where else is he gonna wipe it down?). He pulls up his jeans in a hurry. His clothes cling wet and sticky along his lower back, and it feels weird, but it’s the kind of weird he could get used to. If he and Axel ever do this again.

“That was amazing…” he whispers to Axel. He’s smiling a little, hopefully—maybe they could do this again.

Not that Axel sees his smile, or him at all. Because Axel isn’t making eye contact.

“Axel?” Roxas’s smile passes. “What is it?”

Axel’s staring off to the side as he zips up the fly of his jeans, as he pulls down the lower zipper of his coat.

Noticing Axel’s left his gloves right there on the sofa beside him, Roxas reaches for them and holds them up to Axel, like it’ll help. Not that he knows what it’ll help. But it’s something.

Axel lets out a breath through his nose. He glances at Roxas, their eyes meet. There’s a pause.

And then Axel’s dropping away again. He lets out a sigh through his nose. “Thanks,” he says, taking the gloves and shucking his hands back into them.

Roxas’s gaze slides upward as Axel rises up to his full height. Looking up at Axel like this makes him feel really small. He blinks again. Then he adjusts himself on the sofa until he’s sitting on it properly, the way he was when they first came over here, earlier in the night, to play the game.

“Axel…”

“I’m gonna… go freshen up,” says Axel, not to Roxas. “You know.” He scratches the back of his head, glances at Saïx. “Gotta get ready for tomorrow and everything.”

Already?

But—

Just like that?

But Roxas hasn’t even had the chance to—

He watches, helplessly, as Axel heads out. He knows he should go after Axel. But something’s holding him back. The weight of being ignored all of a sudden, maybe. Roxas sinks into the sofa, his shoulders crowding up near his ears.

Once Axel’s left, Saïx turns to Roxas. “Why don’t you go and do the same? We’ll be needing you wide awake and ready to pick up the slack come first thing tomorrow morning.”

Saïx says it so—so normally. Roxas frowns. He doesn’t understand Saïx at all. “Is Axel okay?”

Marluxia fixes Roxas with a long smirk. “I dare say he’s just fine.”

“Now, now, Marly.” Xigbar’s gesturing with his hands as he talks. “You can never be so sure. Not everyone’s as comfortable with their sexuality as you.”

“Really. You saw the way he looked at him. Even you must have noticed, Saïx. When was the last time Axel raked his eyes over you like that? If he ever did.”

“Enough. Roxas,” says Saïx, rising to his feet. “Make sure to clean up the sofa on your way out.”

“Shall I ask Axel for you when I see him tomorrow, Roxas?” Marluxia offers. “Would you appreciate that?”

He guesses he’d appreciate it. Okay. But he’d feel better about it if he got ask Axel directly himself. What is it, Axel? What happened?

Whatever happened, it had to have been his fault. He must have done something wrong.

…Well, it was his first time, maybe he messed up somewhere during. He hadn’t had any practice with sex before, after all. Maybe he wasn’t very good at it. Maybe Axel didn’t enjoy it half as much as Roxas did. Even though Axel said all those things. And did all those things to him. Roxas shakes his head. He doesn’t get it.

“Heh,” mutters Xigbar, as Roxas wipes down the sofa with his sleeve. “Poor kid.”

“Stop calling me that,” Roxas says, but he doesn’t sound so sure any more. Maybe Xigbar’s got a point.