Merry Christmas everyone! I hope you all have had a wonderful year, and here's to many Christmases more. Just a little thing I wrote as a Christmas gift for a friend. Reviews are appreciated (: Hope you enjoy it!

It was the same thing every year. There was no difference at all; always the same scene, always the same emotions. He didn't know why he came with him year after year, to this same Christmas party. Maybe it had something to do with the fact that they had been friends since high school—loyalty, and all that.

Or maybe it was because he just couldn't bear to be away from him.

Whatever it was, Roxas was growing quite sick of it.

He hadn't known why he agreed to go with Axel to Marluxia's annual Christmas party; he knew that he'd just sit in the corner beside the punch bowl (which, knowing Luxord, was probably spiked with who-knows-what) and watching as Axel went around drunkenly making out with anyone who was nearby. It always happened like that.

So then why did I even bother coming? The blonde silently scolded himself. Axel had pulled the "I-don't-want-to-go-alone-because-I-get-lonely-at-parties" card on him (just like every year), and, once again, he had fallen for it. He just couldn't say no to him.

So there he was, holding an untouched cup of weird green punch, watching everyone laugh and have a great time while he silently sulked in the corner. He occasionally glanced Axel's way to see what he was up to. The redhead was drinking beer after beer, laughing and kissing whoever came his way. He was making out with Larxene under the mistletoe last time he checked. And after he swore that he hated her guts, too. Guess I should remind him of that once he sobers up.

Honestly, Roxas didn't understand why Axel even bothered to bring him. He always ditched him as soon as they got there and then made him drive him home because he was too drunk. It always happened. The same routine, over and over. He never got a chance of happiness at this sort of thing. Only Axel's happiness mattered, apparently. "I hate Christmas parties," the blonde mumbled under his breath, taking a sip of the punch.

"You and me both."

Roxas nearly choked on the punch; either from its horrid taste or because of the sudden presence beside him, he wasn't sure. He turned to face the visitor. "God, Zexion, you almost gave me a heart attack."

The slate-haired boy shrugged. "Sorry. You looked lonely. Thought I'd come join."

"Well thanks for your concern." He turned his head, murmuring, "It's more than I get from certain people."

"You mean Axel?" The blonde nodded. "Thought so. Well, I know how you feel there."

"You do?"

Zexion nodded, pointing to the hyper blonde that was now in Axel's arms. "When Demyx comes to a place like this, he kind of forgets I even exist. Of course, I'm more of a wallflower to begin with, so it's not really much of a surprise."

"I can relate to that." Roxas stared down at his cup, tearing off chunks of the styrofoam and dropping them into the punch. "It's just…when I see him with other people, and he goes around doing stuff with them…I just feel kind of…betrayed, I guess…"

"Then why not give him a taste of his own medicine? Get back at him a little, show him what it's like to be left out?" The blonde's eyes darted up to meet his face. Zexion was usually the brooding, melancholic type, but right then he looked vulnerable, almost dazed. "Zexion, how much have you had to drink?"

"Not much at all." He leaned forward ever so slightly, steadily gazing into the blonde's eyes. "Well? How about it?"

Oh, what the hell. Roxas pulled the other man to him and met his lips. In that simple moment, with Zexion's lips pressed to his own, Roxas wondered, Is this how Axel feels when this happened? Confused, yet at peace? Or is he too drunk to realize anything?

But Roxas was torn back to reality as Zexion went crashing to the floor. He looked up, meeting a pair of blazing emerald eyes. "Keep your hands off my Roxas, you emo punk."

"Axel, what the hell?" The blonde stood up, yelling at his friend. "What was that for?"

"He was kissing you, right? He doesn't have the right to do that—"

"Says who? You can't control who I can kiss! Besides, you've been doing the same thing!"

"I do not!" The redhead spat.

"Yes you do!" Roxas shot back. "Every single year at this stupid party, all you ever do is hook up with as many people as you can. And what do I do? All I do is sit back and watch. And I'm sick of it!" He pushed past the redhead and headed for the door.
"Roxas, come back! Roxas!"

But the door was already closing behind him.

When he reached his apartment, Roxas fell face-first on the couch, not even bothering to take off his coat or his shoes. He was too busy wallowing in self-pity to really give a damn.

Why did Axel have to go and do that? It wasn't fair. After all the stuff he had put him through, year after year, he couldn't get a single moment of release…

His cell phone buzzed from his pocket, but he didn't bother picking it up. As soon as it went off, his home phone started to ring. Again he ignored it. Not even five minutes later he heard his doorknob rattling. There was a barely audible click, silence, and then the creaking of the door as it swung open. There was only one person who knew how to successfully break into his apartment. Sitting up, he met the weary eyes of a disheveled redhead. "Axel, why are you here?"

He collapsed in a chair, tossing his jacket on the coffee table. "You ran out of the party. Just wanted to make sure you were okay."

"Nice of you to worry, but as you can see, I am perfectly fine."

"You didn't sound fine."

"Really? I wonder why. It could do with the fact that you acted like a total ass."

Axel shot him a glare. "I had a right to."

"You had no right, and you know it."

"I did have a right," he insisted. "I can't just let someone else do something like that to you. It's not fair—"

"Not fair? I'll tell you what's not fair: being dragged against my will to a party where all I do is sit around and watch you get lucky while I'm miserable." Roxas stood up and walked to the window, leaning his head against the cold glass. "It's always the same thing, every year…"

There was a moment of silence. Finally, Axel spoke up. "Do you know why I do all of that?"

"There's a reason?"

"Yes, there is." The redhead stood, joining Roxas at the window. He kept his eyes on the lights of the city as he continued. "I ask you to go because I like being near you. I get drunk and ignore you because I get too nervous to talk to you. I kiss all those other people," he hesitated, meeting the blonde's eyes, "because I wish that it was you that I was kissing."

Roxas stared at Axel, at a loss for words. He blinked a few times, then looked away. "Why didn't you ever tell me?"

"Because I was afraid you wouldn't feel the same. I thought you'd just laugh or get mad and think I was joking. And I was too afraid of that happening."

"…Idiot," the blonde mumbled, punching him in the arm. "You should've just told me."

"I'll remember that next time," Axel mumbled, rubbing the place that he'd been hit. "So…are we good?"

"We're good."

"So…would you mind if I…kissed you?"

"I guess not."

With that said, Axel pulled him tightly against him, their lips colliding together. It was just for a moment, but it felt as if it was hours before they parted, breathless. Roxas shrugged, still slightly out of breath. "Eh, not bad."

The redhead smirked. "Not bad? That's all you can say?"

"Well, it's better than I thought it'd be."

"I hope so." Axel slid his arms around the blonde's thin waist, pulling him ever so closer.

"But you know, I'm still curious. How come you got so mad at Zexion for kissing me?"

"Because the brat got to kiss you before I could. I guess you could say I got a little jealous."

Now it was Roxas' turn to smile. "You? Jealous? I'm surprised. Shocked, even."

"Oh, just shut up and enjoy your Christmas present. It's something I should've given you a long time ago."
"You, I'm guessing?"

"You guessed right." He pressed his lips to the blonde's once more. "Merry Christmas, Roxas."