Author's Notes:
I know that this isn't what you all voted for on the Poll- on the 4 votes so far, NARUSASU won out. But, luckily for the one person who voted AkuRoku, I started this thing a WHILE back. It's going to have chapters, yes. ;D I think I did a good job…. I was starting to feel like Siefer and Hayner were turning into Sora and Riku, and that worries me… I try to keep all the characters unique, and all their interactions unique as well.
Normal Disclaimer… really appreciated reviews!!
"Hayner?"
The one-bedroom penthouse suite that Roxas was standing in was eerily empty. It was only 8 AM, but Hayner wasn't one to oversleep.
"Hayner? Yo, Hayner! We're gunna be late!"
Out of the bedroom stumbled a shirt-less, boxer-clad redhead, whose flaming spikes were disheveled, but still stuck nearly straight up off his head. Roxas' mouth worked at forming words.
"…The fuck?" he gasped, trying to wrap his head around the idea of another male, half-naked, being in the apartment. The redhead's gaze ran up and down Roxas' body.
"Well, hey there!" He smirked, voice gravelly from sleep but still managing to sound annoyingly nasal. "May I help you?"
"Why the hell are you in Hayner's house?" Roxas growled, still confused.
"Hayner?"
"Yeah, Hayner Ai-" Roxas stopped and caught himself with a grimace. "…Hayner Almasy, the dude who lives here."
Recognition lit up in the redhead's vivid emerald eyes, and his smirk widened.
"OH, Seifer's little companion!" The redhead laughed. Roxas noticed that the older man had flames on his otherwise black boxers.
"Wait… Have you done something to Seifer? Or Hayner? Shit! Hayner are you alright?!" Roxas surged forward and closed the gap between them, trying to get into the bedroom. Nasal-voice reached out a long-fingered hand and stopped him.
"Who the fuck's there?" a familiar, deep voice grumbled. Roxas pushed harder against the restraining appendage and poked his head around the doorway, able to see Seifer spooned against Hayner's back, chin resting against his best friend's shoulder.
"Seifer?" he muttered dumbly.
"Grumpy!" Seifer grinned brilliantly, which of course made Roxas feel guilty. While he had come to accept Seifer more in the past few months, he only really tolerated him when Hayner was around. And right now, Hayner was asleep…
"Look… ah, I'm here to get Hayner." Seifer blinked at him, then bent over to kiss Hayner passionately on the lips for a long moment, after which he moved to roll off the bed. Roxas growled deep in his throat.
"Oh, come on, Seifer! He's asleep, for God's sake!" And then, he saw that Seifer was… naked. With a loud squawk, the teen plastered a hand over his face.
"Jesus, Roxas. You're acting like you've never seen a naked guy before!"
Roxas merely gave an embarrassed grunt in reply, waiting until he heard the sounds of a loud scuffle before he opened his eyes and saw Seifer pulling on a plain black t-shirt; he was already wearing a pair of jeans.
It had been hard enough to give his consent to the man who had practically been a pedophile to Hayner until the boy's eighteenth birthday, but Roxas didn't actually want to have visual evidence.
"Where're you and Hayner going, Roxas?" Seifer asked, now donning his trademark trench coat. Roxas shrugged.
"The Struggle tournament," he muttered, noting how Seifer's eyes widened and he gazed down at the sleeping teen behind him. The older blonde reached out –it almost seemed absentmindedly- and ran a finger down Hayner's cheek. Against everything he knew, Roxas felt a pang of near jealousy when he saw that look in Seifer's eyes.
"…Is he competing?" Seifer asked softly.
"No, but I am." Roxas answered quickly, trying to keep Seifer calm.
"Hey, Shorty, is this the same Struggle tournament that's being held in the sports center?"
Roxas jumped; he'd all but forgotten that nasal-voice was there.
"Seifer, who is this guy?" he hissed, scooting away and listening to the amused chuckle that came from the lanky man beside him. To be blunt, it looked like redhead had been stretched; all of his body parts were long, but at the same time graceful.
Wait. Had he just used the word 'graceful' to describe another man?
"Axel was my neighbor way back when," Seifer muttered, shrugging. "I met up with him again my freshman year in college. He was a senior, back for his Masters. When he needed a place to stay the night before the competition, - he's competing- of course I let him stay. Hayner approved as well, and that sealed it…"
At the mention of his name, Hayner stirred. The poor boy was given less than two seconds to breathe before Seifer descended on him, drawing a startled gasp from teen.
"I need to get out of here in ten minutes, Seifer!" Roxas called over his shoulder.
"Wait- Seifer, is Roxas here? Shit, Seifer, stop- Oh…!"
Roxas shoved his hands over his ears and hurried faster into the living room.
"TEN MINUTES, SEIFER!" he half-shouted. "Not even you can do it that fast!" Beside him, Roxas heard a deep chuckle.
"If you need to get there in a hurry, kid, I can drive you." Axel offered, pulling a shirt over his head. Roxas found he wasn't surprised when he saw the word "Pyro" printed across it in blazing gradient letters – like fire. He connected gazes with the redheads greener-than-green eyes, and noticed the two small, black, upside-down black triangles – almost like harshly angled tears – beneath each said eye. When had the man put on those skinny jeans? Roxas had been standing right beside him….
"Look, Alex…"
"The name's Axel," the redhead corrected automatically, in a tone that implied he was used to saying this.
"Yeah, okay, AXEL; it all depends on whether Seifer can keep his dick to himself for a while and-"
"Roxas!" Hayner hissed venomously, appearing out of nowhere and glaring daggers at his taller, more muscular friend. Roxas shut up immediately.
"Pyro here offered to give us a ride!" he spewed out, the words nearly indecipherable as he tugged Hayner towards the elevator.
"Hayner, give me a call when you get out, okay?"
"Dear God Seifer, he's almost nineteen years old, treat him like an adult!"
Roxas caught Seifer's tragically wounded gaze when he turned back around, the man composing himself to glare with open hate at the tall teen before the doors came together.
"The name's Axel, buddy." The tall redhead repeated in Roxas's ear. The blue-eyed blonde jumped; this guy was a fucking ninja. It unnerved Roxas that the man was so good at sneaking. With an agitated growl, Roxas shrugged, purposely letting one shoulder pound painfully against the man's mid chest – yes, he was that tall.
"Whatever."
When they all arrived at the center, Roxas shoved the ticket into Hayner's hands before further pushing his friend towards the entrance for audience members.
"Kick some ass, Roxas!" Hayner called over his shoulder, and Roxas grinned, despite himself, before turning and heading towards the competitor's changing rooms. Unfortunately, redhead stuck to him like glue.
"Aren't you a little old to be competing?" Roxas hissed venomously, unable to bring himself to warm to anyone who connected himself with Seifer.
"Why? Do I look old?"
The look on Axel's face was priceless.
"No… although, it depends on your definition of old. You look like you're in your late twenties."
All that Roxas in reply was a deep chuckle. Jesus, was that the only sound this guy could make?
"Aren't you a little short to be competing?" the older man jibed back. Roxas stiffened, halfway through the doorway, turning around at the waist and burying his fist in Axel's gut. For the most part, his blow glanced off of strong abdomen muscles, but it still caused the tall man to gasp and huff out a barking laugh.
"Don't ever call me short!" Roxas growled, glad to finally have an excuse to hit someone before he sauntered –in a masculine manner- into the locker room.
Now, locker room was a pretty loose term, considering that Struggle Ball isn't really all about uniforms. All that was required was a dinky harness, upon which small –yet heavy- clear plastic balls hung, connected via Velcro, and a competition shirt. Needless to say, it didn't take long for all the contestants to get geared up and ready to roll. Or Struggle. Standing and peering out into the arena, Roxas felt nervous for a split second as he watched the large-screen LCD TV, anxiously awaiting to see whom he'd be paired up against.
For the sake of time, four circular arenas had been set up in the center of the sports center, surrounded my screaming fans. Four matches would go at once, finish, and then the computer would re-roll the battle pairs. Roxas wasn't part of the first four groups, and he was glad to be able to sit back and see what kind of competition he was up against today.
The redhead was in the first group. Without a second thought, Roxas snickered at the idea of the tall and lanky man fighting it out against some of the larger, beefier opponents. Sure, the pyro had height on his side, but he sure as hell couldn't have much muscle hanging off those bones.
The loud, bullhorn like buzzer sounded, and the four groups immediately burst into action. It was hard for Roxas to keep his attention off of the flaming redhead. The man was agile, his lengthy limbs flying weightlessly through the air as he skillfully spun the Struggle bat between his hands.
Strategically, Roxas kept tabs on his fighting moves. The man was fond of charging forward and leaping up to bat balls off the front and back of his opponents harness, easily executing a flip and landing easily on his feet. Every time he used the move, the entire gymnasium would grow still, waiting for him to fall on his face. Mid-air, he would perfectly switch the bat from hand to hand as necessary, pounding ruthlessly against the leather harness and the small balls that made loud cracking noises as they smashed against the floor.
Roxas gulped.
After making it to the semi finals, it was down to the final two matches that would determine the fighting pair. Roxas was up against a tall- even taller than Axel- and muscled man. He was grinning openly to the crowd, and flipping his hair.
Roxas charged forward the minute the buzzer went off, holding his bat out to the side and keeping it horizontal to the floor. Setzer- his opponent –barely registered Roxas's movement before he'd sidestepped fluidly. Luckily, Roxas had been watching all of his could-be opponents, and quickly followed through and was able to get in a solid downward swipe on the right side of Setzer's harness, showering the floor with glittering plastic orbs.
Setzer's cocky, relaxed smile dissolved into a mortified scowl, and he responded to Roxas's downward sweep with a wide arc at waist level. Roxas couldn't hold back the loud laugh as he leapt back a yard or two, effortlessly removing himself from harm. With his avoiding skills deterred, Setzer really wasn't that good at Struggle ball. When the ending buzzer went off, Roxas had lost barely ten balls, while Setzer had a meager three left over.
The announcer called for a brief break, and Roxas was ecstatic. Swinging his bat over his shoulder and walking tiredly into the locker room, he tossed his vest and bat into a bin near the entrance, debating taking a shower, or just toweling off.
Of course, the sight of a certain shirtless redhead heading towards the public shower stalls was the only incentive Roxas had to turn heel and storm off towards the stack of clean, fluffy towels. No way he was getting even halfway naked with that creeper around.
So, it would all come down to this. Roxas splashed cold water across his face, toweling his face dry and gently padding the back of his sweaty neck. He'd watched Axel enough to know what his moves were, but there would be no getting around the redhead's insane, ninja-like moves. Steeling himself, Roxas threw the towel down unto a bench and paced anxiously by the exit, jumping when the buzzer sounded.
"Nervous, Shorty?"
Roxas whirled around, the amused smirk a stark contrast against the man's genuinely caring tone of voice. The short blonde stiffened his shoulders and pulled a harness over his head and grabbed a bat, not even bothering to reply to the cocky fighter. If he had to go down, he'd go down a jackass.
Axel strode nonchalantly into the ring, dropping into a crouch and bouncing ever so slightly unto and off of the balls of his feet. He tossed the bat back and forth between his hands, spinning it much like a baton twirler. Roxas lost his concentration, watching the mesmerizing swirling, not hearing the starting whistle until he felt the entire front of his chest assaulted with sharp, pin-point blows, the sounds of little orbs hitting the ground, sounding faintly like wind chimes.
He leapt back, swinging his bat out as a weak barrier against any more of Axel's advances. Roxas took a quick tally.
Shit, he though, tightening his grip on the bat. That bastard lost me half my balls!
The teen straightened out, ready to face his opponent, but was barely able to blink before Axel was charging forward. Roxas knew what was coming. When Axel leapt up in the air, Roxas shoved his bat upwards and into Axel's stomach before sliding forward and out of the man's reach. The redhead fell to the arena floor, curled up and wheezing. Roxas was able to see a smirk plastered on those lips just the same, and the shorter fighter growled. He rushed forward, but was only able to brush one or two balls off before Axel had leapt agilely up unto the balls of his feet, blocking the blow with his own bat.
The crowd was going wild. Roxas pressed his bat down against the redhead's, able to see the sweat rolling down his opponent's face. Well, at least he would be able to say he made Axel work for his trophy. He grunted and pressed harder, trying to give one futile last push, fighting to find a way to land at least one more blow, loosen a few more balls.
Out of nowhere, the buzzer sounded. Roxas started, and the lapse in concentration sent him flying unto his back, a grinning pedophile crouched over him. Poor Roxas had barely enough time to formulate a smart comeback before the referee yanked Axel up and hoisted a huge, colorful trophy into the redhead's hands. It was made of spun metal, painted gold, swirls arching upwards to curve around and support four large marbles in solid colors – red, blue, green and yellow.
Roxas got himself back up onto his feet and charged into the locker room, throwing his harness into the collective bin and stripping the sweaty competition shirt from his chest. Outside, Axel was still being congratulated. He angrily pulled his shirt out of a loaner locker and over his head, grumbling and slamming the locker shut with a loud shout.
Who the fuck did that prick think that he was, barging into a city that he didn't even live in and stealing first place from the people who really deserved it. The crowd still cheered, high-pitched shrieks penetrating Roxas' concentration. Well, this had been a colossal waste of time. Jerking his cell phone clumsily from his baggy shorts pocket, the blonde teen dialed Hayner's number- there was no way he was going to get a ride home with that … that…!
Hey, you've reached Hayner Almasy's cell….
With a growl, Roxas slammed his slider phone closed, deciding to just walk home as he pushed out of the stuffy, smelly bathroom. Besides, Hayner and Axel both had to get to the same place, right? Roxas needed to go to his own dinky apartment.
"Hey, Shortstuff! …Wait up, Blondie!"
Oh, come on. Roxas ground his teeth together, speeding up and bowing his head down towards the sidewalk.
"Roxas!" the voice was harsh and angry as a warm hand clasped unto his elbow. Curse the redhead's long legs.
"What-" Roxas whirled around, a biting retort poised to fire, only to have a sparkling, cold sky-blue marble pressed into his palm. The heated anger fizzled out of his lower stomach, leaving him slack jawed and childishly holding the glimmering crystal ball up to the cloudy sunlight. It sparkled intensely, and Roxas could swear he saw something move inside.
"A…Axel, what?" He finally tore his eyes up from the mesmerizing colors and was lost in Axel's deep ivy-green eyes instead.
"You deserve something for being second." The taller man shrugged, smiling faintly, showing disinterest. "I'm taking Hayner back to Seifer's, do you want a lift?" Roxas blushed, embarrassed by his earlier thoughts.
"No, thanks. I have to get home and study- I don't live too far." Why was he lying? Couldn't he just say that he didn't want to ride with the pyro? And since when was he carrying on regular conversation with this guy?
"Oh, alright. Nice meetin' ya, kid!" The man gave a warm smile and a playful two-fingered salute before he spun on his heel and strode slowly away, leaving Roxas in the cold wind.