Author's Note: Well, I was hit by this particular plot brick last night while watching the 4th of July fireworks go off down at the beach. And, being the fanfreak I am, what did I think of? This story, of course! And I know I should be working on JB, but WHATEVER! I needed a little break from that anyway. Anywho. Enjoy! Matured for uh... language and suggestive material.
Disclaimer: I DO NOT OWN these peeps. And I shan't ever, so don't bug me. Not that people do anyway with that crap. Uh. Yeah.
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Fireworks of Fate
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The last rays of sun in the early summer evening that had once kissed the sky were slowly dwindling as night encompassed the world that Roxas could see just outside his apartment window. Pretty soon, his feet would be hitting the still-warm pavement, and afterwards, the sand down by the beach.
Roxas sighed as he shoved on his running shoes and pulled on his windbreaker. Twilight Town was too small for its own good. He could jog around the perimeter twice in about an hour's time. The other bad thing about living in a town that small was that nothing ever happened. Everyone just got up in the morning, went to work at the same old job or went to school in the same old classrooms, then went home.
The blond had gotten sick of that lifestyle quite early on in his high school years. That was when he had started running. He'd jog a new way every night, no matter if it was pouring buckets of rain or smoldering hot.
His wild spikes were whisked about as his feet churned beneath him, feet meeting the sidewalk to the same beat as his steady intake of air. His legs carried him until there was a wide expanse of sand before him, the waves hushing in and out in the distance. He was exhilarated by the adrenalin that always flowed into his system as soon as he took that first step out of his door. It was a liberating sensation.
With his unzipped windbreaker billowing and whipping about and the salty air running through his hair, Roxas felt amazing. He didn't need anything or anyone, and yet he felt so much more alone in those moments than he ever felt during the day.
The flat and saltwater dampened sand gave way for his pounding feet as he flew along the shore in the darkness of night. A flash of green and then of white washed over the blond and he looked to see a perfect sphere of light fade into the starry sky above. The crack that followed afterwards made his heart skip a beat, but he continued pounding on. The glow of fire met his field of vision next, followed by an array of flashes of color and corresponding cracks.
Roxas turned his attention away from the bonfire and fireworks and concentrated on the perfect rhythm of his breathing and steps. He had just synchronized the beat of his heart to the light jogging steps when a searing heat passed all too close to his face.
A blinding streak of red passed by, right where he would have been bare seconds later, accompanied by a deafening screech that bellowed from the light. His breath caught in his throat and he could have sworn that he saw his life flash before his eyes, complete with the Batman cake he got for his fourth birthday. The light had barely passed before he skidded to a halt and promptly fell backwards, the impact knocking whatever breath was left from his lungs out into the warm night air. He sat up instantly, not noticing the sand clinging to his back, and a bare second later, he was blinded once more by a circle of searing red light. Roxas threw an arm over his eyes and let out a surprised cry as the explosion echoed through his brain.
His heart thundered in his chest as he just sat in the sand in a sort of paralyzed state of shock with a little bit of temporary blindness and deafness on top of it all.
If this wasn't a HOLY SHIT, I almost just died moment, Roxas didn't really want to know what exactly one was.
He more felt than saw the pounding of feet approaching him. Well, there was someone standing in front of him and a hand shaking his numbed shoulder. Then there were moving lips… with no sound.
Roxas blinked a few times, first of all to clear his mind and second in order to be able to actually see. His hearing was slow to return, but when it did start to fade back in, he was met by an onslaught of frantic yelling.
"-ly fucking Hell. Hey! Are you alright?" The guy was waving a hand before Roxas' dazed blue eyes, "Fuck, say something!"
That was when Roxas' eyes finally decided to clear just a bit and he saw a guy whose face was quite close to his own and he noticed a particularly strange feature on the guy. Which he made a point of announcing rather frantically while trying and failing to scurry back just a bit, "Oh my God, your head's on fire!"
A wave crashed beside them as the guy with the obviously flaming hair paused and gave Roxas a wide-eyed, concerned, and more than slightly confused stare. His rescuer - if that's what the guy was – reached up and ran a hand through the flame and was strangely unharmed. Rather, the flames moved with the motion. And that was when Roxas figured out that it actually was his hair with the bonfire reflecting off of its wild coloring. The guy's tone matched his expression perfectly, "I think I'm fine. It's you I'm worried about. That thing almost…"
Blue eyes turned to where the sphere of red fire had hissed into the small rolling waves and all he could do was utter a strangely empty, "Oh." Strange, because he felt like screaming his lungs out and his heart felt like it could burst out of his ribcage at any time.
The flaming redhead was talking – rambling, more like – as Roxas tried to put his legs underneath him and use his shaking arms to pull himself up from the sand. "Oh my God, I am so sorry- if I had known that you were right there I never would have even thought to- God, I am so sorry- I'm so fucking stupid- here," a hand was thrust at Roxas when it was obvious that his shell-shocked muscles couldn't bear his weight. He simply looked at the offered hand for a moment before reaching out to grasp the forearm.
Apparently his brain wasn't as ready as he thought and he was overcome by an overwhelming swoon as he was hoisted into a rough standing position, the world spinning just a bit too much for his liking. A hand was at his shoulder and he clutched at the arm to steady himself.
"Jesus, I'm so sorry," the guy continued as Roxas gained his bearings.
The still mostly dazed blond gave a hollow, "Yeah," in response. Damn, he really wanted to just lie back down and wait for the world to stop spinning, his ears stop buzzing, and his eyes to regain their focus.
"I don't really know anything about, like, post life-threatening experience shock or anything. Uhm, maybe you should sit down for a while." The guy paused awkwardly and pried his hand away from Roxas' vice-like grip, "It's the least I can do after, uh, that." Roxas nodded his head at that. It sounded like a bloody fucking good idea. Soon, he was seated beside a bonfire, perched on a sizeable driftwood log. He was vaguely aware of more fireworks exploding above his head and a rowdy group of people on the other side of the fire and a bit farther away. He could barely pick up a heavy rhythmic, grinding music being blasted somewhere not too far off.
The log wobbled slightly as the guy sat a little ways down from him with a stressed sigh. It wasn't long until those sharply concerned eyes turned on him, "You, ah, doing alright?" As if Roxas had had a bit more than thirty seconds to fully recover.
Roxas was busy being enchanted by the lick of flames before him, but he snapped out of it soon enough and let out an almost amused snort, "That was definitely a first."
Small eyebrows were lifted, "What, almost getting skewered by a firework?"
A beat passed and Roxas looked at the guy out of the corner of his eye, "No, seeing someone with fire for hair." His heart was making progress with the bursting sensation and was almost back to normal. A slight smirk made its way onto the blond's cheeks.
Well, Roxas could tell now that the guy's hair wasn't made out of fire now that his sight had returned, but who actually had hair that red? A hand was passed through said hair and the owner's off-beat voice only made the motion seem more awkward than it already was, "Uh, right."
"Ax, you dipshit!" Blue eyes flicked over to a second set of blue. Wow, what century did that hairstyle come from? The redhead winced as the mohawk guy continued scolding his rescuer slash assailant, with many exaggerated hand and arm motions, "What the hell were you thinking? I knew you were a pyromaniac, but I thought you were actually responsible about it!"
A responsible pyromaniac? What was the world coming to? "Hey," the redhead spoke up in his own defense, "how was I supposed to know that someone was right there? And I am taking responsibility here, Dem." If looks could kill, that pyromaniac wouldn't have lasted half of a second.
That expression changed instantly when the Mohawk guy turned his attention towards the firework victim, "Hey, you okay, little dude?"
Roxas actually had to shake himself a bit to get himself to speak up, "Uh, getting there?"
"I'm Demyx, by the way," he thrust a thumb at his chest, "You need anything? We've got- well, I think we might have some Bud left, and some vodka, unless Marluxia or Larxene got a hold of it. Anyway, feel free to join the party, kid! There's plenty of us, so don't feel bad about crashing." The blond turned and disappeared into, what Roxas could then see, was a sizeable group of people.
The redhead let out a low chuckle and Roxas was caught in the sudden beauty of that sound, the way those green eyes glowed in the flickering light, and that little upward quirk of his lips, "That'd be Dem with about one and a half beers. He's such a lightweight."
"You must have had something more than that to actually shoot a firework into the ocean like that." Whatever bite Roxas had wanted to put into that statement was lost somewhere between the smile and the twinkling eyes staring, enchanted into the blaze.
The peaceful expression was destroyed by a guilty wince, and Roxas mourned the peaceful demeanor, "Uh, I've had worse?" Then those blazing green eyes turned on the blond with quite a few degrees of apologies, "You know, I really am sorry about that."
Roxas waved him off, longing more than ever to have that gaze return to the flames, where they seemed drawn. Though, it was nice to have them staring at him in a similar way, "Yeah, yeah. It was a mistake and all that, and mistakes are always forgiven. I guess I'll give you a break. It's not like it actually hit me."
A grin was flashed at the blond, "Gave you a shock for your money though, right? Not that you did pay, but who the hell would pay to have something like that happen?"
Roxas chuckled, "Pretty much."
Axel shifted slightly where he sat, not a nervous gesture in the slightest, "Well, happy 4th, in any case."
Roxas cocked an eyebrow and let out a single laugh, "Is that what this is about?" Meaning the bonfire, dancing, and the infamous fireworks.
The mane of red spikes wagged back and forth and a hand twisted nonchalantly in the air. "What, you think we do this every Friday? That'd be fucking awesome, but sadly it doesn't quite happen that way."
"I didn't even realize that was today." So much for that calendar of Orlando Bloom that was stuck on his wall. Not that he ever used it for anything other than to have a pretty face to look at…
"Day 4 in the month of seven, every year." The guy shrugged and returned his gaze to the fire. Okay, it wasn't every day that Roxas saw a guy that beautiful who wasn't on a tiny screen.
Roxas let out a tired laugh, "I guess I'll take that drink then."
This time, the expression didn't change when those enchanted green eyes turned on blue, "That's the spirit. Better be patriotic and have a little fun after your near-death experience, right?"
Roxas was forced to turn his eyes away, "Something like that."
The log shifted as the redhead stood, "So, what'll it be?"
The blond simply shrugged, "Whatever you got'll be fine."
He looked up just in time to see a wink and a casual salute, "Gotcha."
Roxas stared after the guy. Why hadn't he noticed how freakishly handsome the guy was before they had been talking for all that time? Oh, that's right. He had been a little preoccupied with the whole life-flashing-befire-eyes-shock thing.
The pyro returned with two beers dangling from one hand and a vodka bottle clasped in the other. He offered one of the brown bottles to the blond and kept the other for himself, taking a drink before setting the quite sizeable vodka bottle safely in the sand at their feet. That was when he swung his leg over to straddle the log. Yes, straddle. So what if the only thing Roxas could think about was sex after his whole ordeal? This guy was like, a Sex God anyhow. The blond distracted himself by trying to drown himself in the beer.
After a long draught, the redhead posed a question, "So, what're you doing down here if you didn't realize it was the 4th?
Roxas felt it was safer to talk into the fire for the time being, "I was running."
The guy removed his lips from the bottle head with a pop, "For what or from who?"
My wasn't that brown glass beautiful, the way it picked up the orange of the flames? Roxas laughed and tried to keep his uneasiness out of it, "I always run at night. I just decided to come down here on a whim."
A thoughtful hum came from the guy's throat, and it so did not make Roxas think of a purr "Maybe you were fated to almost get killed."
The blond shrugged, "You never know." He pulled another long drink from the bottle he was so carefully nursing. "You know, you don't have to stay here with me if you want to go back over there." He nodded vaguely towards the group of dancers. If one could call that humping dancing.
The redhead copied his shrug, "Eh, I don't think I should do anything else having to do with fireworks for the night. Plus, I kinda feel obligated now." A wild expression was thrown his way, green eyes hungry for something. It caught Roxas a little off guard.
He quickly turned his attention back to the bottle, "To what? Cater to my every need? You really don't need to."
"Yeah, but I should. Well, make sure you're alright, I mean." Was it just him, or was the pyromaniac scooting closer and closer by the minute?
"You're too kind." The bottle was lifted to his lips and the liquid was quickly consumed. Hey, he needed the alcohol after what had just transpired. It wasn't every day that Roxas almost died and got to drink and chat it up with one of the most gorgeous creatures he had ever met.
Time passed, beers were guzzled, and they moved on to the vodka, for better or worse. To Roxas, it was the better. At the moment at least. He would hate himself in the morning, no doubt, but what the hell?
The redhead snatched the bottle from Roxas' loose grasp and took a long swig. His voice was just slightly slurred, which added to the overall sexiness, "Okay, here's a good one to play. I've never been able to do a cartwheel."
"Shit, not this game." Oh, why did he have to have that stupid beer? His senses were already on a thread.
He was met by a wicked grin, "Oh yes, this game."
Blue eyes were rolled, and the world only spun once, "Fine." The bottle was snatched back and the hot liquid burned all the way down to his stomach, "I've never almost killed a guy with a firework."
He was scoffed, "Oh, that was too easy. Give it." He took a swig, "I've never learned your name."
The blond took the bottle back, "It's Roxas." The name was rolled off of the redhead's tongue, tasting it a bit as a wave of heat seared down his throat, "And I've never been told yours." The bottle was handed over.
The fire got a fresh burst as someone who had broken free of the dance party threw an extra log on, "I'm Axel." He took a deep drink, "Got it memorized yet?"
Roxas grinned, "No guarantees. Okay, I've never gotten a tattoo."
Axel let out a bark of a laugh, "Got me there." He ran a thumb and forefinger over the black triangles just under his eyes like tears. Black, or were they dark red? "Don't they make me seem so bad ass? They hurt like you wouldn't fucking believe when I got them. Well, I've never…" They continued on, getting more and more plastered as the game progressed. They had moved closer to one another - for easy transportation of the vodka bottle, of course – both straddling the log and knees almost touching. Roxas had never before grown such an attachment for a glass bottle and that searing and enticing liquid as it moved down to his stomach. He was finally coming to his senses, and with every passing moment, Axel was becoming more and more gorgeous and his voice more and more fucking drop-dead sexy.
So, Roxas decided to give the game a bit of a push in the right direction, "I've never made out with a guy."
Axel smirked and rolled his eyes, "Okay, give it over." The bottle was snatched away from the blond's loose grip and the guy took a deep drink before leaning closer to Roxas, who, in that moment, was frozen stiff by the guy's lips moving at the head of the bottle. A hot and wonderfully textured hand reached up and cupped the back of Roxas' neck. The blond had not a half of a moment to realize his situation before their lips were crushed together. Roxas' sluggish mind could barely register the impulsive action and he simply fell into place and kissed this almost perfect stranger.
Okay, maybe not stranger anymore. He did know the guy's name. What was it, again? Fuck, was that a tongue? Damn, this guy was good, even when he was drunk. But then again, Roxas didn't have anything to compare it to and he was just as bad with the alcohol consumption as the redhead. The tongue sought entrance, and Roxas was happy to oblige. The music thudding in the background was just as intoxicating as the alcohol resting on the log between them. They both came up for air, but only trailed far enough away to breathe in the other's stale and alcohol-saturated exhalations. They both dove back in simultaneously, lips moving in perfect harmony. Roxas, free of any remaining inhibitions, allowed a low moan into the kiss. It was responded to with a hungry growl that sounded almost animalistic. Roxas drew a sharp breath to keep his head from spinning, but nothing would really help at that point. Their tongues continued to dance around each other, the light touches growing more heated as they continued.
Axel was the first to pull away, his green eyes dilated and lustful. It was all Roxas could do to stop himself from leaping at the guy to continue that moment. Axel's sexy voice had just gained a notch in the cock-teasing scale, "Now you have to drink."
Roxas blinked a few times, coming to senses and grabbed the bottle that was threatening to teeter off the edge, "But I said that before you-"
Axel was quick to change the topic, "I have never made out with a girl."
Roxas scoffed at that, "Well, that's 'n easy one. I've never-"
"Woah, wait." The hand moved from behind his neck and slipped down to his chest, and he so wanted it to go lower… "Hold that thought, mi amor." He turned away and called to the crowd of what Roxas realized was what looked like a giant clothed orgy, "Hey Larx! Get your tits over here!"
It took a moment, but someone did come stomping over, throwing out profanities and whatnot. And wow, Roxas had never seen bangs quite like those before, "Fuck you, Axel. You know I was just freak dancing with-"
"Make out with Roxas."
Well, that certainly made his heart skip a beat, "What? Oh, HELL n-"
Luckily, he was cut off by the woman who he might've thought was good looking if it weren't for- "Fuck, I'm not even drunk enough to go snog off a homo. Do it yourself, fag."
Axel's grin was infallible, "Already done, hag. Just testing a hypothesis." The bitching woman - what was her name? – Larxene stomped off, but not before giving Axel a dirty look and flipping him the bird.
Roxas glowered and shot the next one at Axel, "I've never stolen someone's firs' make-out session."
The grin hadn't left the tattooed cheeks, "Sorry, Rox. I couldn' resist." He winked at the blond before taking another swig, "I've never not been gay."
Roxas' brain promptly shut down at that one, "What th' hell's that s'pposed to mean? Never not?" It was hard enough for him to put together double negatives when he was sober.
Axel shook his head, "Ah, Nevermind. I don't need that answered. Your turn."
"I've never… had this much t' drink before." To tell the truth, Roxas' world was having a grand time merry-go-rounding about him.
Axel simply took in another draft, "I've never met anyone quite like you."
"Yeah, I don' think I've met some'ne like you either." They leaned in and could almost taste the vodka on the other's breath.
Axel's almost lustful expression split to reveal a wicked grin, "Wanna dance?"
Roxas gave his own lopsided grin in return, "I don't think I can trust my legs farther than I can throw them right now."
"Come on." He stood, but not without a slight uneasiness on his feet, "You'll be better than you think." Roxas was hefted to his feet and he was none too surprised when he could actually hold his own weight.
Soon, they were in the very middle of the throbbing, thrashing and grinding crowd. Hot bodies were pressing on all sides of him as Roxas moved to the music. A pair of arms circled his waist and a lean body was pressed to his back, and everything felt so right. They moved perfectly together, flowing like one entity. Roxas didn't know how long they danced like that for, sometimes switching to face each other and the redhead sneaking in a few kisses here and there and giving the blond a hickey at the base of his neck at one point.
Neither did Roxas know when exactly he blacked out. Though, he did have vague flashes of what might have transpired. He remembered being rattled around in the back of a car with long fingers running through his bangs. He remembered a bed and a hand down his unbuttoned jeans, and his own down another as he struggled to stay on his hands and knees over the redhead. Roxas figured that's when he finally passed out.
When the blond finally woke up, he was met by the brightest and blinding sun he had ever seen. It drilled into his forehead and damn did his head hurt. He waited for his eyes to adjust to the stabbing pain before he actually opened them. The latter took a bit of work, but when he accomplished this feat, he was met with a certain dread.
He had slept with his clothes and shoes on. Ugh. Well, at least his windbreaker was off. Except his fly was undone… and his windbreaker was on a red carpeted floor, which was definitely not his hardwood floor.
He lifted and turned his heavy head around to take in the unfamiliar settings. "Fuck, where am I?"
Something stirred beside him. A mop of gravity-defying red spikes shifted from its face plant into the pillow and revealed a still as gorgeous as ever tattooed face. Well, at least it wasn't only the alcohol that had put up that illusion. Roxas just hoped it was the same for him. What was muttered from the redhead wasn't very reassuring, "Fuck, what happened?" Somehow, Roxas knew that his fly was undone as well. Who knew how devious his hands could be when he was that plastered?
Dazed and cloudy green eyes snapped open and they fell to blue, first in confusion, and then dawning in realization. They both said the other's name at the same time, each recalling what they could from the previous night of drinking and fun – and fireworks. Yes, the fireworks…
A smile crossed Axel's lips – a slight grimace accompanied from the obvious kick-ass hangover – "Some fun, huh?"
Roxas squeezed his eyes shut and massaged the bridge of his nose, "Not right now, though. How did we get here, anyway?"
Axel's smile turned to a smirk, "Demyx's boyfriend, probably. He never drinks, so he's always our designated driver and shit. Zexion is such a stiff sometimes, but he's cool."
"Ah. And I guess 'here' is your house." This got him a nod, which was immediately followed by a grimace at the movement.
"You don't regret it, do you?" The tone of seriousness caught Roxas and he met the cat-like eyes once more.
"Right now I'm regretting that last swig of vodka."
"Other than that?"
What the hell was he pushing at? Roxas shook his head, "No. It was… fun."
Axel's face lit up, "Great. You want to go out sometime, then? We could, you know, run together or get coffee or something."
Roxas winced once more at the light, "Sure." He reached into his back pocket and, sure enough, he found his cell phone still intact. He pulled it out and flipped it open, "What's your number?"
Axel simply groaned and snapped the phone shut himself, "I need a bit more sleep first, you know?"
Roxas agreed whole heartedly and the pair fell back to their hangover-induced sleep, their arms about the other and sharing in their misery with happy smiles on their faces.
Whether it was fireworks of fate or pyromaniac stupidity, neither would be able to label that night as anything but serendipity.
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End Notes: This thing is bound to be filled with errors. I'll go back and fix them someday. Gah, it's 1:30 AM and I have work tomorrow at 9... whoops!
Reviewers get... free huggles and snorgles! Or just high-fives if you're not a snuggly person.
