Axel had seen a lot of people who came to bars just to get shitfaced drunk. He'd seen a lot of people who came to bars just to pick up women, and even the occasional man. He'd seen old-timers who just wanted to moan out their story to someone while holding a shot of whiskey in their hand. Axel had seen a lot of all that. He never remembered these people's names, nor their faces. They had to tell him several times a week just so he would remember that they were regulars.
No, the only person that really stood out to Axel was Roxas. The blonde-haired college kid would waltz in like he owned the place, sit down at the bar and order a different drink every time. He never talked to anyone but Axel, and even that was to only murmur a quick greeting or 'I'm leaving' plus a drink order. Even still, they shared secret looks, talking with body language more than anything else.
Roxas ignored those who came up to him attempting to get him to dance or trying to buy him a drink. And even if they did buy him a drink (which Axel always supplied- it usually meant a large tip for him), he wouldn't pay any attention to it. Even if it was the same drink he happened to be nursing that day.
Roxas came every day, but never left drunk. This made Axel think that he always came alone. Not that he'd ever seen the blonde enter with someone else or exit with someone else, but the notion still stood.
It was a Wednesday that Axel noticed Roxas was acting weird. Not only did he look much more disheveled than usual, but he also ordered at least five of the strongest drinks Axel could make. It was near closing time, so there were quite a few people in the bar for last call. The red-haired bartender didn't notice how drunk and sick Roxas was looking until the crowd cleared away, most drifting out to go home.
"Roxas…? You okay…?" Stupid question. Such a stupid question.
"Mmmph… Go away." Roxas' voice was muffled by his arms, which he had buried his head in so that only his spiky hair was visible.
"May I touch you? I swear I'm not out for funny business." Axel requested, coming to lean on the counter right across from the elevated portion of the bar where Roxas sat.
"Nnngh." Roxas groaned, and Axel took it to mean yes.
He began to run his fingers through Roxas' hair, searching for both something that might tell him that the younger man had a fever and to comfort the blonde. He succeeded in both. Still, once he had found Roxas' sweaty, too-hot forehead, he didn't stop threading his fingers through the younger's hair. He couldn't. The blonde locks were like a magnet, and his hand was metal.
"Roxas, Sunshine, what's wrong?" Axel decided to take advantage of the fact that Roxas was drunk, but only a little.
He couldn't deny that he felt something for the other. He almost couldn't help it. The few silent jokes they had shared felt like they carried a lot of weight. Roxas made Axel feel special- like he was the only one who got to see this side of the boy. It made Axel's heart warm in a way that it hadn't in a very long time.
"Y' can' help." Roxas hiccupped. "… 'Feel sick." Roxas mumbled the latter as an afterthought, and Axel took pity on him.
First of all, he forced everyone else out of the bar who did not work there. After that, it was just himself, Roxas, and Yuffie. Yuffie was their '911' person- she blended in with everyone else and called 911 if brawls got out of hand, or she saw absolutely anything that looked remotely illegal. She was renowned for her sharp eyes and kung-fu skills. Or karate. Axel couldn't remember which.
Axel ruffled Roxas' spikes gently, exiting the bar to go out to the main floor and ease him out of his stool.
"No, no- what're y' doin', Ax'?" Roxas slurred, struggling a little against Axel's firm and steady grip on his shoulders.
"I'm helping you, dolt. Let me." Despite the harshness of his words, Axel's voice was soft and gentle.
Roxas became completely pliant in his hands. Axel guided him gently to the back rooms behind the bar where Axel generally slept- there was a small kitchen, a tiny bedroom, a bathroom, and a sort-of living space. Axel would have put Roxas on the couch, but he could tell that this kid was not going to be able to hold his alcohol down for much longer. And maybe that was for the best, really.
So instead, Axel guided him to the bathroom, and pushed him onto his knees gently before the toilet. Murmuring that he would be right back, Axel went to grab a washcloth. As he was digging through a pile of clean laundry, searching amongst the towels for a washcloth, he heard Roxas start to revisit his drinks. And his lunch, if Axel listened right.
But he didn't want to listen right. This was already pretty gross. Instead, Axel calmly walked back to the bathroom with his prize in hand (a deep sea green washcloth that was slightly ratted at the ends), and began to dampen it with cold water from the sink.
Once he had done that, he wiped at Roxas' forehead as best he could, getting the blonde's sweaty bangs away from his face. Inbetween bouts of throwing up, Axel flushed the toilet and wiped down every inch of skin that he could see with the washcloth. The entire time he was murmuring quiet words of comfort to the younger, rubbing his back when he was left gasping for air.
"Shhh, it's okay Rox. Just let it out." Axel encouraged when said person tried to choke down the bile rising in his throat.
When the redhead felt that the washcloth couldn't do much more, he resulted to running his hands through Roxas' hair again. He almost couldn't help it- it felt that good. After a good half an hour of throwing up, there was nothing left in Roxas' stomach, and the smaller was just plain exhausted. Axel managed to maneuver him all the way to the bedroom and into the bed before anything else happened.
Axel had no idea what had happened to the college student to make him like this, to make him get so unabashedly drunk that night. His mind raced through all the stories he had heard from others, wondering if Roxas' was any similar. He shook his head. If he continued making assumptions like that, he was just going to turn out to be a jackass. Not that he already wasn't one, but it wasn't like he wanted to be more of one.
Running a hand through his spiky red hair, Axel retired to the couch, trying to think of ways to get Roxas to tell him what happened. Even though he had feelings for the boy, he wouldn't say they were exactly… Friends. Not yet. That required verbal conversations rather than just the silent type.
Ah, even if they only did discuss things in silence, Axel was happy with whatever he got.