Alcohol
Well, intoxication seemed like a good place to start. Axel/Roxas.
The backwater tavern was dimly lit with oddly-tinted azure lights, and the place was damn near close to empty. Old rock music was being played and replayed over and over again repetitively from the ancient jukebox situated just beside the bar counter. Not one to look around much and contemplate if this were the right place to be, Roxas stumbled in through the door and approached the bartender, flipped back the hood of his faded black-white jacket, and ordered the strongest thing he could think of without hesitation.
The barista flicked the boy a mildly amused look and a crooked half-smile, not really bothering to ask for any sort of identification to confirm the blond kid was indeed over the legal drinking age. The balding man busied himself for a few moments and came back, handing Roxas a frosted glass mug of bubbling amber liquid.
Clutching his drink, the blond sauntered off towards one of the corner seats that faced away from the counter and settled himself as deeply as possible within the booth, hiding in the shadows in an attempt to avoid prying eyes.
He'd had a bad day. Oh yes, a bad, bad day.
He downed half his alcoholic mix in one go and placed the mug back on the table, where he then proceeded to scowl at it for a few minutes as though it had offended him somehow.
Oh yes, bad day indeed.
And he knew it was probably going to get even worse because, just moments later, a tall, shady figure clad in dark clothing stepped up to his table quite unexpectedly and plopped down in the seat beside him, trapping the boy within the booth. And there went his route of escape.
Roxas' blue eyes narrowed when he felt the presence of the lanky stranger invade his personal space. "Get the hell away from me and find your own fucking seat," he growled in a low voice, glaring at the guy with such intense ferocity that he was surprised the man didn't just die on the spot. And damn, the dude had the most outrageous bloody-crimson mop of hair Roxas had ever laid his eyes on.
The stranger's acid-green eyes looked towards the youngster unblinkingly, gave him an impious smirk and gestured around with languid haphazardry, making small, circular motions with his finger. "Think they're all taken," he stated casually.
Roxas raised an eyebrow, took one sweeping look around the deserted pub, found no one but himself and the stranger, and returned his gaze to the man beside him. "You are fucking crazy," he muttered thinly, taking another swig from his mug, this time a much smaller one, and slamming it back down on the table.
The stranger laughed. "Aren't we all?"
"What the hell do you want?" the blond snapped heatedly.
The extremely annoying stranger ran a pale, thin hand through the bright red spikes of his hair in a careless motion, relaxing back in his seat as though he owned it. "If you haven't noticed, this place is mighty lonely tonight. Just wanted some company, that's all."
Roxas looked back down at his drink, the grip on the mug handle tightened considerably, but he remained silent, a dark look plastered on his face.
The stranger peered at the teen, head tilted to one side. "Someone must've fucked you up pretty bad if you're here and you don't care that someone who might just be a perverted paedo-freak just sidled up to sit beside you."
Roxas snorted derisively. "Are you?"
"What? A perverted paedo-freak? Nah," the stranger waved his hand in the air flippantly. "Too lazy to be one." He looked back at Roxas curiously. "What the hell's got to you anyway? You're acting like the world's just ended."
"Already has," Roxas replied sourly. "Why don't you just go somewhere else – preferably somewhere away from here – and mind your own damn business?" he suggested coldly.
"Well, well…" the man murmured with a low whistle, "Kid's an angry, sullen little bitch, huh?"
"Yeah, good to know you've got the brains to figure it out. Now get lost."
The redheaded guy paid no heed to Roxas' implication. Instead, he chuckled once and signalled over to the barmaid, ordering a beer.
They sat in silence as the stranger waited for his drink to arrive. When it finally did, he took a large gulp of the frothing stuff and turned back to Roxas with a content grin on his face.
"So, what's your name, kid?"
"Excuse me?"
"Your name," the stranger repeated, as though Roxas didn't quite hear him. "You do have one, don't you?"
"I heard you the first time," Roxas grated irritably finding the urge to hurl his frosted mug at the stranger's face rising. "What I meant was, you don't just go 'round asking people for their names. Dude, I don't even know you!"
The redhead shrugged and took a sip from his mug. "Yeah, well, I'm Axel. Or just Ax. Or just… whatever. There. Now you know me. So… you got a name, kid?"
Roxas sighed, giving up, mentally telling himself that there was no point dealing with this moron. "It's Roxas. Now if you don't mind, just leave me in peace, okay?"
"Ro-xas." The man rolled his name around his tongue experimentally. "Hmm, nice name. Kinda' sexy, y'know?"
"Thanks," Roxas bit out acidly, "Now, you gonna' shut up and leave me alone or do I have to physically do it myself?"
Axel laughed and bobbed his head. "Alright, Roxy, alright." The man returned to his drink.
Roxas glared, but said nothing more. At least the stranger wasn't talking to him anymore. But damn, when he said 'leave me alone', he meant 'go the fuck away and find another goddamn table, asshole'.
And what the hell…? 'Roxy'? Seriously. What… the… hell…?
Roxas snorted and sculled the rest of his remaining beverage.
They sat in awkward silence like that for almost an hour. But really, the awkward tension between them had started to slip away once Roxas ordered his fourth drink.
He was getting a little woozy and his mind was finding it hard to focus now. The blond was on his sixth glass of alcoholic something by the time they started talking again. And honestly, the only reason why he resumed the conversation in the first place was because he wasn't feeling right in the head anymore. If it weren't for being slightly inebriated, he wouldn't have said a thing. At all.
"You have weird hair," was the first thing out of the kid's mouth.
It sounded quite ridiculous. But Roxas didn't care. Not in the state he was in right now.
Axel glanced sideways at him, an eyebrow raised. "Well," he said, "I thank you for your… er, compliment." There was a hint of amusement in there, but Roxas didn't quite catch it.
"No, like, seriously. It's red." The boy stared at the flaming mess of hair unblinkingly. "Like… red red."
The redhead had to bite back a laugh. "Wow. Aren't we observant today?"
Roxas frowned, this time catching the teasing tone behind Axel's words. "Ohshutup. Stop smiling your head off. Christmas is like, a year away."
Axel shook his head, grin still in place. "Not smiling, kid."
"I hate you."
"Mmmhmm… Sure you do." Axel looked away, took the last sip of his drink, and looked back. "Sooooo, if you don't mind…" Cough. "Could you let me guess what's got you so down that you gotta' resort to getting smashed on a Friday night?"
Roxas' expression of vacancy suddenly changed to one of irritation, like a switch had been flicked.
"Guess away," he snapped, "If it'll make you feel better, guess away."
Axel smirked. Oh yes, he knew what screwed the kid over, alright.
"Girl of your life just broke your heart? Or something along those lines?"
Roxas blinked, then groaned loudly and buried his face in his hands. Why was this idiot madman so good at guessing games?
"Bingo!" Axel crowed triumphantly, his voice apparently devoid of anything resembling sympathy. "Hit the nail on the head, didn't I?" He started bobbing his head to some sort of music he couldn't hear.
"Give the man a prize," Roxas muttered sarcastically to no one in particular, throwing his hands up in frustration.
Axel sat back in his seat and toyed with his glass mug for a few moments in contemplative silence, thinking hard. Then, he turned to Roxas once more, a small smile in place. "I'll bet she was pretty. A guy like you…" he nudged Roxas in the side, "oughta' have hella' good taste."
Silence.
"Yeah?" Nudge, nudge.
"She was pretty." Roxas' voice was all of a sudden hushed and subdued. "Prettiest thing I ever laid my eyes on. She had that… that cute smile and that fragile, delicate, soft look about her." He frowned, pushing his mug around on the varnished table unseeingly. "Had a pretty name too."
"Aaaand I suppose she chose some dingbat with winning good-looks and ridiculously dashing charm over you?"
A small growl emanated from the back of the blond's throat. "… He was one of those strong-and-silent-eyeliner-wearing-I-am-so-the-totally-hate-you types." Roxas' words started to slur more than just a little. Damn, he'd had too much to drink.
"Mmhmm," Axel nodded mildly, looking intently at the way Roxas' soft blond spikes fell into his eyes carelessly as the boy slumped forward, head bowing over the wooden table. "Chicks these days…" the redhead shook his head, clucking his tongue. "They dig those sexy emos."
"Pfft. Like I care anymore!" Roxas jerked his hand, spilling the remains of his sixth beer-drink-thing. He cursed wildly under his breath for a few moments, then slumped back in his seat rather violently, his back sliding down the cushion.
By this time, Axel was starting to worry for the boy. He wondered what the hell was in his drink. In fact, the man wondered what had been in all of the drinks he'd been having. Surely they weren't just alcoholic. Damn, the kid seemed like he'd been drugged.
He glanced down at Roxas and felt the urge to prod him in the shoulder experimentally, because the blond looked like he just died in the seat beside him.
But then, Roxas' drooping head suddenly shot up. He sat up straight again (with some effort), turned his body sideways and looked up into Axel's green eyes almost fervently, an unstable look on his face. "Do I… do I know you?" he slurred hesitantly, a brief spark of recognition flashing past his unfocused eyes.
Axel blinked, gave the kid a lopsided smile. "Yeah, we met a few hours back. Remember? I'm Axel. What? Forgotten that already? Jeez, Roxy. You break my heart."
Roxas frowned, as though confused and too intoxicated to make head nor tail of what Axel was saying. Then he shook his head, his expression baffled and disorderly. "What I mean is – is… what I meant was… I think I know you." The blond's frown deepened and he squinted up at the redhead, as though trying to see him through half-formed visions that were swimming around in front of him. "Like, I think I know you know you… Y'know?" he hiccupped. "Do I knooow youuu?" he said again, raising a finger and attempting to poke Axel in the chest, leaning so far sideways against the table that Axel had to catch him around the waist to prevent him from slipping off the seat and dropping to the ground.
"Hell, kid! I dunno what the hell it is that you know. But I know something – you definitely suck at holding your liquor."
"I do," Roxas stated bluntly, eyes half-closed, suddenly tilting and leaning himself against Axel's side.
"Okay, you're so outta' here. Where the hell do you live, kid?"
"Wha-?" Roxas twitched. "You taking me home?"
Axel sighed. "Maybe."
"I have a car! I can driiive. I parked it…" Roxas tried hard to remember, failed miserably, and shrugged. "… Parked it somewhere, I think," he finished lamely.
Axel shook his head. "Oh. Okay. Damn."
He wasn't going to let this silly kid drive when he was intoxicated with a blood alcohol level that was like, ten times above the limit.
"No, wait. I can drive. Seree – serious-tilly. I dan crive home no problem!" Roxas argued.
"Like hell you can drive!" Axel admonished. "You'll kill yourself… And then I'll have friggin' nightmares tonight!" He shook his head again and grabbed the boy by the arm roughly. "My apartment's just 'round the block. Leave the damn car. We'll come back tomorrow." He threw some dollar bills and coins down on the table, stood abruptly and dragged Roxas up with him. "Let's go."