1: M.I.A.
The gun was a familiar weight in Roxas's palm. He fingered the trigger, pressed the barrel against the soft underside of Axel's chin.
"I always knew you had it in you," Axel murmured.
"I know," Roxas said. The metal dug into Axel's flesh.
"See you in another life, baby."
A click, a bang, and Axel was on the floor, a tunnel the width of Roxas's fist blown out the top of his head. Roxas pushed the barrel between his own chattering teeth, bit down on the taste of steel and gun oil, and joined Axel on the floor.
2: Passing Notes
A paper plane landed on the desk. Roxas glanced at it, his lips pressed into a narrow line. He pushed the plane to the side of his desk and kept grading. The multiple choice corrections had become a mantra in his head, scrambled alphabet repeating as he ran his red pen over each paper, scratching out wrong answers. A A C B... another plane landed on the desk, covering the paper he was marking up.
Roxas moved to knock the folded airplane into the corner of the desk, but he noticed something scribbled across one wing. He inspected it and read, scrawled in small, messy writing, "Open it, dipshit." Rolling his eyes, he unfolded the plane and read the few lines scribbled inside. "I like you. Do you like me? Check yes, no, maybe"
Roxas crumpled the paper and threw it into the trashcan several feet away. He clenched his jaw and continued grading, practically slashing his red pen across each paper.
When the bell rang 20 minutes later, Roxas was the last out of the room. He tucked the stack of tests into the outbox, chatted briefly with the teacher as the next period filtered into the room, then slung his bag over one shoulder and exited. Axel had apparently been slouching against the wall that entire time, waiting for him to come out. Roxas glared at him and walked toward the gym.
"Hey, wait!" Axel darted after Roxas. "Dude, what the hell."
"Your note was cute," Roxas snapped.
"I didn't think it would bother you that much."
Roxas spun to face him. "Fuck yes, it bothered me. I thought you wouldn't be a dick about this, but I guess I was wrong."
"A dick about- Roxas, what the hell? I'm not making fun of you, you moron."
"Yeah, okay. Go to your own class, stop following me." Roxas sprinted off toward the rest of track team, who were on the opposite end of the football field.
"Damn it, Roxas!" Axel ran after him, gangly limbs flying as he gained on Roxas and finally hurled himself forward, arms wrapping around Roxas's shins and tackling him to the grass.
"Get off me-!"
"Goddamn it, Roxas, listen to me. I don't give a shit that you're gay- well, I do give a shit, but not-"
Roxas punched Axel in the jaw.
Axel yelped. "Fuck-" He grabbed Roxas's wrists and pinned them above his head. "Would you listen to me?"
"Fuck you."
"I'm trying to tell you I like you, moron."
Roxas snorted. "Right, okay. Get off me."
"For fuck's sake-" Axel pressed his lips to Roxas's, shifting so that he held Roxas's wrists with one hand, while the other came down to cup Roxas's cheek.
After a moment, he pulled away a few millimeters; Roxas stared at him with confused, half-lidded eyes. "Do you get it yet?"
Axel dipped his head back down and crushed their lips together a second time, mouth opening hotly over Roxas's. He pushed his tongue against his lips and Roxas groaned and let him shove inside.
When they pulled away, both were panting. Roxas lay subdued underneath Axel, eyes closed, lips still parted.
Axel watched him open his eyes. "I like you. Okay?"
Roxas blinked up at him. "Okay."
Axel let him up. "Want to get out of here?"
"Ah- yes- no, I can't. I have track."
"Ditch it."
"I can't ditch it, I have a meet this weekend."
"Tomorrow, then."
"Fine."
"Great. I'll see you tomorrow."
"Okay."
Axel tugged Roxas forward and kissed him again.
"I have to get to practice..."
"Right, right. good luck, loverboy."
"Fuck you."
"Tomorrow."
Roxas scowled, waved, and ran toward the team.
***
The next morning, Roxas walked into French to find Axel already there, looking anxious. Roxas got the day's stack of grading from the teacher and plucked a red pen from the cup. He walked by Axel, dropping a small paper plane on his desk as he headed for his table at the back of the room. Axel unfolded it, then turned to grin at Roxas.
Scrawled inside the plane was the word "Yes," capped by a single square with a check mark dashed through it.
3: Boys Boys Boys
Roxas applied the lipstick carefully, guiding the tube in a slow, deliberate jagged line down his forehead, skipping his eyelid, dragging half an inch down his right cheek before dashing back up. Axel perched on the edge of the bathroom counter, grinning at Roxas in the mirror and slicking body glitter through his hair and over his chest and shoulders.
Axel slipped on a short denim vest and fastened two thick faux gold bracelets around his upper arms. He hopped down from the counter and stood behind Roxas, fingers hooked in the waist of his jeans, watching as Roxas lined the red lightening slash across his face with blue eyeliner.
"Perfect," Axel said, hunching his back to lean over Roxas's shoulder. "Ready, Ziggy?"
"Almost."
"Should've been Dorothy. Braiding your hair wouldn't take as long, and gingham brings out your eyes."
Roxas shot him a glare.
Axel bit his neck. "Kidding, babe. You know Bowie makes me hot."
"Damn right," Roxas grumbled, tilting his head to allow Axel greater access to his throat.
Axel gave it a long swipe with his tongue. "Ready yet?"
"Mmhmm," Roxas purred, arching his back against Axel. "C'mon, we'll be late"
"Mm, I could never thank Bowie enough for Ziggy not wearing a shirt" Axel said, groping Roxas's chest contentedly.
"Ahhnn, get off. We're late." Roxas squirmed out of Axel's clutches and walked out of the bathroom. Axel followed, grabbing his keys off the table and shoving them into his pocket.
"Do you think we look too gay?" Roxas asked outside, scrutinizing his reflection in the side of Axel's old white Ford Falcon as Axel climbed inside and leaned across to unlock Roxas's door.
"We're Ziggy Stardust and the Jean Genie," Axel said. "What do you mean, 'Do we look gay?' Did Bowie look gay?"
Roxas gave him a look.
"Did Bowie give a shit?" finished Axel, starting the engine. He punched on the radio, and Roxas plugged in his mp3 player. "Gimme that," Axel said, as they pulled up to a stop sign. He flicked through the songs, then set it down, twisting the volume dial up to max.
"What--"
"Shh," Axel grinned.
The song picked up as they sped off toward Demyx's house.
"Boys, boys, boys, we like boys in cars, boys, boys, boys, buy us drinks in bars..."
4: Beautiful Dirty Rich
Roxas's hair is perfect blond razor-straight, lips like melted candy canes and his eyes the bright sick blue of gin. He's all baby-smooth skin, pink cheeks and pink bottom, thighs thin and narrow all wrapped around the pole. He dances dirty-pretty, cash bills fluttering like feathers in the lace garter around his thigh.
Axel's in a black wool suit, gun a heavy solid weight tucked neatly into the lining of his jacket. His tie is loose around his neck, top buttons of his shirt undone, and he has one of the boys dancing in between his legs, bare ass spread by dainty hands with glossy purple nails. Axel watches those golden thighs shimmy and tight ballsac quiver beyond the frosted glass of drink in his hand.
Axel sips, and the boy in front of him dances dances dances dances.
Axel's eyes wander.
And he sees Roxas.
That sweet pale skin, plump sugar lips, aching dirty eyes, and his body flat flat flat all the way down to his flaccid cock, body long lean impossibly straight front back and sideways.
Axel's cock wakes up. Axel walks away from the dancing boy. Axel opens his wallet and slips four hundreds into Roxas's garter.
So Roxas dances.
Roxas who has no hips to speak of sways his body side to side, the sharp angular dancing of young girls with no curves, and Axel tucks bill after bill into that little lace band, his eyes drinking in the stabbing hipbones sharp like knives, pale transparent thighs he could wrap a large hand around and have his fingers overlap his palm.
Axel is hard hard hard hard as a rock
drunk on sex sex sex sex
and Roxas dances dances dances.
5: Paper Planes
The gun fell, fired off a third time as it hit and skidded across the floor.
Empty chests can't stop beating.
They never did understand why they could bleed.
But their broken bodies emptied lifeblood that soaked into the carpet and inspired hush-hush rumors that made it hard for realtors in the following years to close an offer on the house.
But Axel and Roxas were far past that.
They were two lost souls swimming in opposing currents that dropped them down in new bodies, new lives, trying to find each other over and over again, lifetime after lifetime after lifetime after lifetime.