6/24/06 - Edited the author's note for my own sake. Edited the chapter for yours.

Warning: Extreme AU-ness, shounen-ai. Just so you know.

Also, this is my first shot of getting back into writing for god knows how long, so forgive anything that seems particularly... bad. It's all just a start again, and I know for a fact that it will get better as I keep adding chapters. And besides, the first chapters are always just set-up for me, anyway. So, please, for the love of yaoi, don't give up on this story "because the first chapter sucks". Mkay? Mkay.

Sleepless
Chapter One: Fragments

Sleep never came easily to a guy like him. It was just the way life worked.
Another sleepless night was passing as thoughts stirred unceasingly through this teenage boy's mind.
The future, the past, the universe... anything and everything flooded to him in those hours of night in which no one wants to be alone.
Of everything, the memories were the worst.
And at night, they always came back.

Holding his fingers to his pale forehead, he winced as he attempted, in vain, to block horrible images that remained so permanent. He held his breath, remembering the worst things done to him, and some of the cruel things he himself had done. Sometimes, he wondered if he even had a heart. He glanced toward the window as the first hints of sunlight crept through the thin curtain. Once again, like every night's end, daybreak brought both a release and a sudden re-emersion into the present. With a disappointed yet relieved sigh, he rose to his feet, chair clattering with the motion, and shuffled over to the small reflective panel on the wall evidently made of a strip of the oh-so-high-tech substance known as aluminum foil.
"Yeah. Great mirror this is," he muttered, obviously frustrated with his lack of decent furniture, as he stared into his own piercing eyes. He raised is hand to try to flatten down his hair, but it was to know avail. Shrugging, he narrowed his eyes and stared for no more than two additional seconds before slipping on his black sweatshirt and heading outside.

The chill in the air was yet to dissipate, as the sun was still rising. Regardless, the boy scowled at the idea of cold weather; he promptly located the correct street and sauntered of to the sunniest place in town to counteract his weather woes. From the moment he had stepped out the door he had his hands in his pockets. Ever since, his left one had continuously been fiddling with the wondrous device he could not bear to part from.

He looked at one of the many dark windows lining the street shops as he passed by. Again, he saw the sharp green eyes that belonged to him. He had often received comments on those eyes over the years, but he still thought nothing of it.Finally, he reached his destination. The sandlot.
By now, the typical twilight set in. It was always the same – the constant twilight was only broken by the short darkness and even shorter light. Every day, the same.
The large Struggle stage was still set up, though he had heard that the last match was over two months ago. He did not care in the least, though; he just liked the area whenever it was as empty and peaceful as it was. He climbed onto the stage, dangling his legs off the side, much like a child would do in a stream.
With a sigh, he fell back, arms spread, as if in order to absorb as much of the heavenly-seeming sunlight as possible. For once, he was relaxed.
However, when he opened his eyes again, he found himself staring into another pair.
"What the hell?" he demanded, with a start.
"You do realize this is my turf, right?" the stranger taunted with a troublesome look plastered on his face, a hat covering the majority of his greasy-looking hair.
The boy glared, then rolled his eyes. "Ugh. What time is it?"
"Time for you to leave."
The boy cringed at the stupidity of the words. "Well, I'm usually gone by the time you get here, I suppose. Too bad I didn't leave soon enough this time. It's a damned shame," he retorted lazily, still not moving an inch.
The hatted intruder continued to stare down the darkly-dressed boy with a menacing look. "I've seen you around town once or twice before. What the hell's your name, anyway?"
The emerald-eyed boy smirked discreetly.
"The name's Axel. Got it memorized?" he announced slyly, motioning to his head.
"Hmph. Well, 'Axel', unless you want Seifer to be a name that you'll never be able forget, you better get out of my part of town, NOW. You have a serious ass-kicking with your name on it if you don't."
"Seifer, huh?" He hoisted himself up, bright red hair still spiky as ever, despite the fact that he had been laying on it for quite a while. He hopped off the center stage and headed towards one of the adjoining alleyways. He did not feel like a fight so early in the morning; he was not too keen on the probability of getting this Seifer punk's blood on his clothes so soon in the day.
A pleased-looking Seifer watched closely as Axel strolled away, amused by how simple it was to get rid of the "red-haired freak". Axel, on the other hand, smiled as well – somewhat devilishly. He raised his hand over his head, slender middle finger extended, as he called out, "The only reason you have your own part of town is because no one but your mother would want to get close to a fool like you."
He smiled even more when he heard the fading curses of his new "acquaintance".
"Fight next time, definitely," he laughed to himself, amused by both the idiotic trash-talker and the pain of resorting to using anything regarding 'your mom'. "...Totally worth it, though."

Even by this point, however, not much of the morning had passed, and he had time to kill. In fact, all things considered, he had all day to kill. Such was the joy of having no attachments; he had only moved into town a week prior, and he did well enough at avoiding mostly every person in the town. He was not the kind of person to immerse himself into his new surroundings. After all, he wasn't all too fond of becoming attached, anyway.
Walking for a couple minutes brought him to another secluded alley tangent to the one he used to escape the presence of "the idiot with the hat". He sank down against one of the walls, isolated in his new corner. After scoping out his surroundings – two trash cans and a box of scrap metal – he entertained himself by pulling out the prized possession from his left pocket.
Click.
A gleaming, metallic lighter rested in his had, the flame dancing in time with the slight breeze that tickled the area. Axel stared into the bright orange and blue; though he loved fire, every aspect of it, he was not often so mesmerized by simply staring at it. This time, however, it reminded him of earlier times.

"What the hell is wrong with you? It's like something's holding you back. We've only known each other for... not that long, and I can still already see that. What about your life is so damn hard, that you could be missing out on everything else now?"
Axel stared into the face of his overly-critical questioner before looking back down to the lighter in his hand. He flicked it on again, letting the heat wash over his face. First, he opened his mouth to say words in retaliation for such accusations, but he closed it again before making a sound. He furrowed his eyebrows, and all hints of a smile ever existing on his face disappeared. Initially frustrated and then clearly upset, he dropped the lighter, sank and sat down, and held onto his knees.
"You want to know what went wrong?" he asked, voice quavering a little as he tried to put all the actual words together for the first time. "Fine. You'll hear it then."
Sea green eyes focused on him as he formed the sentences from all the words that were so difficult for him to say.
"I saw my parents fucking die, four years ago now. I've been taking care of myself since, and I've gotten used to it. I like it this way... not that my parents died. I'm not that sick. But... that I've been able to make it myself. I've gone from place to place and I've made it out fine so, which is more than most people could say. And this entire way, I've had no one. Not one goddamned person. My mistakes and misfortunes are entirely my own. And now, you're here? You say we're friends, but I don't get it. Someone 'being here for me' – that's something I've never had. So I'm confused. And, though I hate to admit it, I'm pretty fucking scared. I don't know what could come of this, and I don't want anything else bad to happen, to me or you."

"Afraid?" the other boy asked, tone softened immensely. He put his hand on Axel's shoulder as he looked him straight in the eyes. "Don't be. I said I'll be here for you, because that's what friends do. Hollow Bastion may still be new to you, and obviously, this concept of friendship is too. But you've got nothing to worry about. I won't let anything bad happen, and you can see that life can never truly be lived all by yourself. That's the way being a friend works – just be you, and let me like you for who you are. No worries involved," he finished as he smiled, sweeping silver locks of hair out of his eyes.
Axel glanced up again into those bright, deep eyes, and said, "Man... you're so corny." He smiled too, knowing everything the guy said was right.
His new, first real friend yelled, "HEY!" as he punched the redhead's arm. "I was just trying to be nice!"

Yes, he loved once. He loved a few times, and he found friendship. But such a complex past could only help give rise to a complicated future, and as he loved, he lost as well. He learned plenty in the process, and as he sat in his alley corner, it was this past that he could not stop thinking about.
He scoffed at himself. "Damn, Axel. Angst away."

Axel stood, overlooking the emptiness of this place he called home. The faraway look in his eyes showed evidence of sadness still lingering, and ideas he did not exactly want to accept.
"Axel," a voice whispered. A strong arm was placed over his chest, warm body latched onto his back. Shortly thereafter, a chin was placed on his shoulder, and he automatically grabbed and held onto the arm tight. Axel could see the silver strands of hair dance around his own; he got goosebumps from finally feeling the touch he had longed for all morning.
"I love you, Axel," came another whisper, tickling his ear with an overly pleasant heat.
"I love you, too... more than anything." His heart pounded almost as quickly as the first time he said it. The sorrow hidden in his eyes seemed to be gone entirely, replaced by unmatched passion, even euphoria.
"What are you thinking about?" inquired the silver-haired boy.
"Other than you?"
A slight smirk. "Yeah."
"Well..." he started. Axel always had difficulty telling exactly what he felt and what he meant. "I almost feel like... I need to move on."
He received a quizzical look.
"Axel..."
"I don't want to lose you either, though," Axel said almost angrily, still trying to figure it out for himself. "God, I..."
"That's not it, Axel," his lover interjected. "If you need a change, I want you to go on. I want you to find a dream, chase it." He paused to give him a sweet, chaste kiss on the cheek; Axel squeezed his arm ever tighter. "Find new places. Find new lovers. There's more to your life than Hollow Bastion."
"But, Ri–"
"No. Don't ever worry about losing me. I'll always be here. Even though I'll move on, too, I'll still always be here, and you can always come back to me."
Axel turned to face the one he loved and wrapped his arms around him tight, clutching him. They kissed deeply, neither willing to let go. Once the kiss was broken, they stared into each other's eyes. Greens that clashed, yet belonged together.
"That's what friends do."
Silent tears welled and spilled for both of them when they knew that this could really be goodbye.

Closing his eyes and sighing deeply, Axel flipped the lighter's cap closed and slammed it on the ground next to him. He bit his lip as he tried to make such graphic images, such vivid memories, go away.
Remembering those days made his heart ache so much, even though he would never admit it. He had loved those days more than just about anything; he missed them dearly, too. It was not that he regretted leaving – he still didn't – it was simply the fact that he missed his first friend, his first lover so much, and it pained him to realize that it had probably been over a year since they had last seen each other. It was just that Axel knew the only time he was anywhere close, or even on the right track, to being complete was when he was with him.
Regardless, there was still the void that required filling. Axel could not stand leaving it so empty, thus giving rise to his desire to give up the best part in his life for the opportunity to search. It seemed foolish to him now, and though he wished he could return to his first beloved, he knew he would never forgive himself if he did not, at very least, find something that he was looking for when he left. The thing he wanted least was to discover that his choice led to nothing but a waste of time and a continuous emotional strain, because so far, that was all he felt he found.
Axel grabbed the lighter again, this time pocketing it. He was finished with dwelling. He moodily decided that he was sick of living off nothing but his memories. He arose and dusted the dirt off his fraying black jeans before crossing his arms and frowning again. He began to slowly drag his feet toward the alley's end, eyes fixated on the dusty ground before him.
However, at this point, he was not quite alone.

He heard voices drift languidly through the area on this dull-seeming midday in Twilight Town. The voices only became louder, indicating that the noisy people were headed in his direction, possibly even directly. Upon analysis of the noise, Axel could make out that there were four people nearby; he stayed put, as to avoid a possible confrontation in case any of the individuals were as stupid as the one of his first encounter that morning. Though he had still been staring at the ground, he started glancing up once the shuffling of feet was close enough to be entirely audible.

Black shoes. Plain, yet somewhat stylish.
Normal-looking pants with a nice combination of white and black for shirts.
Slender wrists with pale, attractive hands; the bracelet and finger cuffs particularly caught Axel's eye.
Disheveled blonde hair that looked like no care was taken towards it, seen as it appeared to be nothing more than slightly-tamed bedhead.

And last: the bright, sapphire-blue eyes, wide with apparent happiness and perfectly complemented by a huge, toothy grin.

The eyes – enrapturing, to say the least. The depth in them... Axel could sense how easily one could lose themselves in them. In fact, it took immense effort to avoid getting lost in them immediately. He admired the intensity and the motion he could see so clearly, with just that single glimpse, and for some reason, he could not turn away.

"Roxas, come on!" one of the other ones shouted. "We said we would help take down posters... we were supposed to be there five minutes ago!" "Alright," came the blonde's response. He was still smiling as he walked with his friends.
Axel stood, completely captivated. "Roxas..." he breathed, softly repeating the name of the adolescent boy.
After another second, his altered form of consciousness broke. He realized his staring, so he looked away, somewhat embarrassed and definitely self-conscious, despite the fact that none of the four had seen him. Waiting for them to leave, he watched their shadows as their voices and laughter faded. Once they were far enough away, he left, sprinting as fast as he could to get away. He ran to his new home, the diminutive shack by the outskirts of the town. He ran the entire way, not pausing once, trying so hard to rid himself of this odd feeling he now fell victim to.
Once there, he slammed the door and collapsed in the chair in which he had stayed up thinking the entire night before.

"God," he whispered wildly. "...This might be it."

The chill circulating through his veins bothered him to no end. That boy... he could tell right now, he would definitely be someone of such significance, someway or another.

"Roxas." He sounded the name out again, recalling the adorable, dumb grin he first saw.
"Roxas." This time, he smiled.