Title: Not Quite 'Jingle Bells'
Pairing: Axel/Roxas
Rating: PG/PG-13
Warnings: some violence, cheesiness.
AN: I own neither Kingdom Hearts nor any of the artists or movie franchises mentioned within. I also dedicate this story to all of my lovely friends, with whom I had in mind as I wrote this. 3
Summary: A Christmas Carole, courtesy of Axel~
"Dashing through the snow
In an eighteen-wheeler truck
'Cross the country we go
Holding out on luck
That we make it there in time
Before I decide to leave this blond behind-"
"You're terrible at making this shit up, you're not even trying to rhyme."
Axel was filling up his eighteen-wheeler's diesel tank just outside of Albuquerque when he saw the young man coming towards him, purpose and intent in every step. Axel didn't spare him much of a thought, to be honest. He needed to be on the road soon, and he was pretty preoccupied with calculating how many miles he could pull out of his truck before he needed to stop again. The young man – a blur of blond hair, pale skin and jeans, as far as his peripheral vision was concerned – stopped a couple feet away from him, standing there and hedging silently. Axel looked over his shoulder at him and raised an eyebrow; he (Axel debated on whether even the phrase 'young man' was appropriate, the blond looked so young) looked tired, his pale face drawn but expression wary as he looked Axel over, swallowing nervously. Axel took note of the small duffel he was carrying and his threadbare jeans, which were not winter-appropriate for even New Mexico. Kid had to be cold.
"What?" Axel asked gruffly. "Whatever you're selling, I'm not interested."
"I'm not-" the other man started, sounding defensive; he stopped and took a quick breath before starting anew. "The sales guy in there said you're headed towards Boston."
"And so what if I am?"
"Well, could I hitch a ride?" the blond asked, adjusting the strap of the duffel slung over his shoulder.
Axel snorted. "No. I don't take hitchhikers."
"But you're going exactly where I need to go!"
"Take a plane like everyone else!"
"If I could afford a plane ticket, do you really think I'd be trying to hitch a ride at a truck stop?" the blond retorted.
Axel paused, surveying his would-be passenger a little closer. "Why are you asking me?"
The blond shrugged. "Because you're the only one not currently passed out in the bar or at the strip joint."
Axel paused, then shrugged himself. "Point taken. What's in Boston?"
"My family. Christmas," the blond simply provided. "I need to get there."
"You have money? I'm not paying for your meals."
"I have some, yeah."
"Fine. Get in the truck." Axel turned away from the blond and pretended not to see the barely concealed fist pump of victory before the other man disappeared to clamber up into the passenger side of the truck's cabin.
The blond introduced himself as Roxas with a tight smile as he got comfortable in the passenger seat. Axel asked him how long he'd been hanging around the Albuquerque truck stop, at which point Roxas admitted he'd arrived (also by hitchhiking) a day before from San Diego.
0o0
Roxas lied. A lie by omission, but it was a lie nonetheless. Half of his desire to get to Boston was for the family he hoped to see, but the other half was what he left behind in San Diego. Roxas didn't like lying, but he also didn't really see any reason to tell the absolute stranger who was kind enough to let him hitch a ride the whole sordid story, so he simply let it be.
Roxas had been extremely nervous about hitchhiking – and still was to a degree. He knew it was a risky thing to do, had heard the rumors of crazy fucks driving the highways from coast to coast. Roxas was even pretty sure he'd met one of those bastards on his way to Albuquerque, and Roxas felt secure in the wisdom of his decision to stay in Albuquerque for a few days to wait for a new driver. Axel had pulled into the station and Roxas took the chance that Axel was a decent enough human being – which he was, much to Roxas' relief. Roxas mentioned his worries to the redhead, to which Axel responded, "I'm not a pervert, alright?"
Axel seemed to exist solely on bad coffee, Slim Jims, and Honey Buns with the occasional infusion of V-8 to his diet. In his first two days traveling cross-country with him, Roxas saw him eat nothing else. And yet somehow Axel managed to maintain this razor-thin physiche that defied all logic based on his insane not-diet. He seemed loathe to stop his truck unless it was an ABSOLUTE NECESSITY, meaning a more sophisticated bathroom was needed, to restock any of the aforementioned foods, or he was running out of gas.
At first it seemed like Axel really didn't want to have much to do with him; it was illegal to pick up hitchhikers, Roxas knew, so figured it probably had something to do with that possibility of Axel getting into deep shit if he got pulled over for some reason. It took about a day (it felt so much longer though) for Axel to warm up and offer him a Slim Jim as a peace offering and allow Roxas to control the radio dial for a little bit. Figuring that if they were going to be stuck in a truck cabin for several days together they might as well have something to talk about, Roxas started asking questions.
"How long have you been doing this?" he asked. Start small.
Axel, unused to having questions asked of him while he was driving on the open road, responded belatedly with "Three years, why?"
"Just wondering." After a brief pause, Roxas spoke up again. "You like it?"
"It-it pays the bills, and what the hell are you doing?" Axel asked, a little defensively. "Don't start with the Twenty Questions."
"Why not?"
"Because I'm driving, dumbass."
"You yell at the radio when they play the same songs over and over again, why not talk to me instead? I might actually listen," he snickered.
Axel paused, then glared at him. "Fine. It's ok. It's a living. Keeps me away from most of the annoying people in the world," he said pointedly, giving Roxas a bit of a mocking smile.
"Yeah, yeah, yeah, call me annoying all you want, I've been called worse."
"I take that as an open invitation then," Axel quipped, but he didn't follow it up.
They sat in semi-comfortable silence for a few minutes before Roxas saw a sign for a Christmas emporium and his thoughts turned holiday-themed.
"What's your favorite Christmas movie?" Roxas asked curiously.
Axel shrugged, hoping to avoid the question entirely.
"Come on, I'll tell you mine!"
"Why are we sharing and caring?" Axel sighed.
"Because sitting here listening to boring talk radio is getting on my nerves," Roxas answered. "And silence is awkward. Now come on – tell me!"
Axel mumbled something under his breath that might have been an answer; Roxas spotted a bit of color blooming on his cheeks and smirked. "I'm sorry, what was that?" he asked again, leaning in towards Axel with a hand cupped around his ear.
"The Muppet Christmas Carol," Axel responded grudgingly.
"Really?" Roxas blanched. "Why do you look embarrassed, that movie is awesome! Best Christmas movie ever, aside from the old stop-motion Rudolf the Red-Nosed Reindeer movie."
"Well if you're going to go that route, I always enjoyed the Land of the Misfit Toys," Axel snickered.
"Thoughts on It's a Wonderful Life?"
"Good message and cute film, but overrated," Axel said with a grin.
"Never liked it," Roxas supplied. "One person can't make that much of a difference in everyone."
"You absolutely sure about that?" it was Axel's turn to question him curiously.
Roxas shrugged. "Not absolutely, but enough."
"You know," Axel began conversationally, "if I'd never been born you'd probably still be stuck trying to find a driver in that sketchy-ass little bar way back there."
Roxas rolled his eyes. "How could I ever forget?"
"You owe me kid, got it memorized? So if you ever meet my parents, thank them for going at it like rabbits and producing your savior."
Roxas snorted, almost choking on his soda as he laughed.
0o0
"So what are you going to do for Christmas?" Roxas asked later in their second day of travel. "Do you get to go home, take some time off or anything?"
"I don't exactly have a home to have Christmas at, man," Axel said, his words without bite. "Not since my parents passed."
"I – I'm sorry Axel, I didn't-" Roxas truly had no idea; Axel didn't talk much about himself, and neither did Roxas, so it hadn't come up.
"It's fine," Axel interrupted him bluntly. "I'm good. I'll get paid after this job, get a motel room, go out to the Ninety Nine and get myself a plate of steak tips or something. Then I'll get to driving again." There was a short pause before Axel turned the question on Roxas. "Well, what about you?"
Roxas shrugged. "Get home, have dinner with my parents. I have some gifts for them, but not much. I'm kind of making myself the gift."
"Eh?" Axel prompted, confused.
"I, uh. I told them originally I wasn't coming home. Then I changed my mind."
"So you're hitchhiking so they won't see that you're traveling on your credit cards?" Axel laughed, not noticing Roxas' lack of response and stiffening form. When Roxas replied with a somewhat sheepish 'yeah,' Axel turned to him again and chuckled. "You're nuts."
Roxas nodded slowly, playing along. "Totally."
0o0
Axel was just passing into Tennessee when he heard Roxas' phone ring; he looked down briefly and saw an unfamiliar name pop up on the screen. Roxas picked the phone up quickly and opened it, curling up in the seat beside Axel with the phone to his ear.
"I told you not to call me," was the first thing Roxas said. Axel's eyes snapped to his passenger, frowning deeply. After a moment, during which Axel could clearly hear the person on the other line yelling, Roxas spoke up again. "Fuck you, I told you – no, no I don't. I don't. I'm done." Another pause. "Go fuck yourself. No really, I don't need to listen to this. You're an asshole. I'm not coming back," Roxas said, laughing bitterly. All the while the person on the other end of the call was shouting. Axel couldn't hear much over the truck's engine, but he was certainly getting the gist of it. There was a long pause after that, during which Roxas seemed speechless and appeared to be melting into the seat. "No," he answered quietly. "No, I'm sorry. This isn't a mistake," Roxas said, barely audible. "I'm not yours, I'm not anybody's."
At that Axel reached out, moving faster than Roxas anticipated, and grabbed the phone from his hands. He hung up the call and placed it on the armrest, peering at the blond and daring Roxas to pick it up again. When he was certain Roxas wouldn't, he readjusted his seat and looked forward again. "Sorry," he said, trying to sound off-hand, "I just didn't feel like listening to any more."
"Thanks," Roxas said belatedly and quietly.
"You ok?" Axel asked, raising an eyebrow.
"Yeah. Yeah, I'm ok.
"It's. It's not your parents that have an eye on your credit card, is it," Axel said, processing the different puzzle pieces of Roxas in his mind. "It's . . . that guy."
"I cancelled the credit card, but you never know," Roxas shrugged. "Yeah, I guess."
"You guess? Look man, the next time I hear you talking like that I'm going to reach through the phone and take out his balls," Axel declared fiercely, recognizing a second later that he was being a little overprotective of someone he'd barely known for thirty-six hours.
"That's a little much," Roxas commented neutrally, not responding to his overzealousness.
"Since when do you take that shit from anyone?"
"Going to tell me I deserve better?" Roxas shot back with a raised eyebrow.
"Fuck yeah," Axel nearly shouted. "You can do ten, twenty times better than that douche."
And Roxas – Roxas started laughing. He leaned against the window, holding himself up on his elbow, and laughed, even as he tried to answer Axel. "Glad you thought so too," he said quietly as he finally started to calm down.
Axel flashed him a bright grin and drove on.
Roxas' phone still rang every once in a while and his ex-boyfriend's name popped up on the screen, but every time Roxas dismissed the call – sometimes it took him a second to process that yes, he should just hang up, but every time he did. Axel felt better about this.
0o0
In Kentucky, there was an issue. It involved a seedy truck stop, another truck driver that Axel was definitely not friendly with, and some choice words.
They were in the sticks when Axel finally found a truck stop with a bar and a gas station; Roxas' stomach was growling loudly, so Axel agreed to get some food in the bar before napping in the truck for a bit and continuing on their way. Roxas felt uncomfortable the moment they opened the door, and though Axel didn't show any outward signs, Roxas could tell his companion was feeling the same way. Axel seemed to stiffen beside him, and the gazes of several men sitting at the bar held for a little bit longer than Roxas felt comfortable with. Axel herded him towards a booth and sat down across from him; Axel's eyes never stopped moving, surveying the rest of the bar carefully.
"Hey kid," Axel said casually; Roxas missed the furrowing of his brow and the darkening of his gaze.
"What."
"Go get us a couple of bears, yeah?"
Roxas stared. "Serious?"
"Go on, git. Whatever's on tap."
Roxas snorted and rolled his eyes, then got up to get Axel and himself beers; when he was up at the bar he noticed that some of guys he'd seen coming in had disappeared. The bartender gave him both beers and Roxas turned to go back to the table – but Roxas noticed that their booth suddenly looked a bit more populated. And Axel, Axel looked like he was ready to start swinging.
The men in Axel's face were not shouting, but the looks on their faces were enough to give Roxas a little shot of panic. "Shit," he hissed, leaving the beers on the bar and shoving people aside to get to their booth. It suddenly felt too crowded in there, but luckily Roxas was small and could dart between the larger bodies, weaving his way towards Axel and whatever was going on. The next time he got a clearer view of their table was the instant a knife hit the backboard just to the side of Axel's head, shaving off inch-long strands of his ridiculous hair – and the bastard didn't even flinch.
Roxas wormed his way out to the side of the gathering group, motioning to Axel. The redhead didn't pay him any attention, his gaze – which was rather murderous, now that Roxas could see him up close again – focused entirely on the burly guys in front of him. Then, before Roxas could process what was happening, a large hand grabbed him by the neck of his shirt and lifted him clear off the ground.
"This yours?" the guy who picked him up asked casually; he had a multitude of dreadlocks cascading over his shoulder and epic sideburns.
Axel's murderous mask shifted just slightly. "Put him down Xaldin, he's got nothing to do with this." Roxas' eyes widened; he sounded a bit anxious now.
"You sure? He's kinda cute."
Roxas made a face and sneered. He reached out and tugged hard on one of the dude's dreadlocks, which, luckily for Roxas, was currently tangled an earring or something because the bear of a man howled something awful and dropped Roxas like a hot potato. "What the hell, you little shit?"
Roxas didn't answer; he was too busy calculating the terrible odds that every other testosterone-filled douchebag in the bar was going to start looking for a fight. They did not appear to be in his favor. Axel stood too, and then one of the tank-like guys lurched forward, arm curved for a punch. Now, Roxas hadn't fought in three years, not since he'd taken second place in a tournament – but when he saw the fist coming towards him he feinted, and it was like no time had passed. He pulled his fist back and landed a punch to someone's solar plexus and feeling him double over with a winded gasp.
The scuffle that followed was confusing; Roxas really had no idea what was happening or how many had been taken down, but it didn't actually last long – the bartender shouted at them at the top of his lungs and cocked a double-barreled shotgun at the fray, ordering them all out of his bar. Axel got the hint first and grabbed Roxas wrist firmly, dragging him out post-haste.
"WHAT THE FUCK WAS THAT?" he shouted over some Mariah Carey Christmas song.
"Tae kwon do," Roxas answered simply.
"No, that was stupid – could have gotten us all beaten to a pulp." Axel was already sporting a bruise on his cheek, and Roxas' knuckles were almost raw.
"What were they even after you for?" Roxas snapped.
Axel quieted, shifting his grip on the steering wheel as he peeled back out onto the highway. "I beat them at poker. They think I cheated."
"Did you?"
"Hell no," Axel snarled. "But they're dumb as posts, it didn't take much – I got the whole pot and one of them said I cheated. Not my fault he bet something he shouldn't have."
Roxas rolled his eyes and let it go, nursing the bruises on his knuckles from the fight. After a few minutes more of "All I Want For Christmas" Axel glanced over and nudged Roxas' arm.
"There's a first aid kit in the glove box. Wrap your hands up before you start leaking bodily fluids onto my seats."
0o0
When they got into the Northeast and closer to Christmas Day, Axel decorated the truck's cabin. He strung up these battery-powered indoor Christmas lights all around, giving the cabin a soft, colorful glow. There's some sort of air freshener/flameless candle hidden under the seats that Roxas actually loathes, because it makes everything smell like Christmas cookies – and then there's Axel's 'tree.' Axel's tree – he's very proud of it, thank you very much – is an old pine air freshener that was now nearly scentless, with little red pompoms glued to the edges for ornaments that Axel tapes to the dash.
Then there are the carols.
Axel inevitably switches from radio station to radio station searching for classic Christmas songs or more modern renditions – Bruce Springsteen's "Santa Claus is Coming to Town" seemed to be one of his favorites.
There's a point during this stretch of the journey where Roxas vacillated between destroying the radio with his shoe and singing along with Axel, but he didn't feel the need to talk about that.
In New York, they hit their first big snowstorm. Darkness and snow made visibility near impossible, so Axel pulled off at a rest stop to wait the storm out. The redhead braved the snow and cold to run into the convenience store, leaving Roxas alone and beginning to shiver in shotgun. When Axel returned, he was awkwardly carrying two Styrofoam cups of hot cocoa and a bag of his usual Slim Jims and Honey Buns, along with a few extra Little Debbie cakes and some cheese. Roxas chose not to question his choices, and drank the hot cocoa eagerly; Axel was already finished with one Slim Jim and moving on to the next.
When he was done, Axel clambered into the back of the cabin where his tiny bed was; a few moments later he thrusted a thick woolen blanket between the seats for Roxas to use. Roxas wrapped it around his shoulders and curled up in the passenger seat, huddled up for warmth.
"Are you still cold?"
Roxas nodded, clamping his jaw shut to keep his teeth from chattering. He heard rustling from the cramped area behind the seats. "You can come back here too – if you're ok with sharing, anyway," Axel said, sounding nervous.
"Is there even enough space?" Roxas asked, shifting around in the passenger seat to get a good look at the space behind him. Axel himself looked a bit cramped – but he also looked as cold as Roxas felt, even wrapped up in his coat and another blanket.
"There's – ok, it's small, but there's enough space for both of us. We're both thin enough that I don't think that will be too much of an issue. Come on, we're both freezing so get back here and snuggle."
Roxas gave him a withering look and sighed, climbing awkwardly into the back seat before plopping down to sit beside Axel. The redhead wrapped one side of his blanket around Roxas' shoulders, pulling him a bit closer until their sides were pressed together. Between two fleecy blankets, their respective winter coats, and Axel being a living, breathing furnace Roxas felt his body start to warm up to the point where his teeth were no longer chattering.
"We're still going to make it to Boston in time, right?" Roxas asked.
"We might," Axel hedged. "Boston is seven or eight hours out, and we were ahead of schedule – but if the snow keeps up we might be stuck. I'm not driving on that highway yet, I'm not quite ready to die."
"Tomorrow's the twenty-fourth, though," Roxas said unnecessarily. "We're almost there."
"So close and yet so far," Axel sighed. When Roxas was still broodingly silent for a few moments after, Axel patted his shoulder. "I'll get you there, don't worry too much."
"But what if-"
"I said I would get you there," Axel reiterated, this time more forcefully. "You trust me, right? This time of year, you ought to spend with someone you care about so I'm really going to try hard to get you there."
Roxas gave him a small smile. "Thanks."
"Don't mention it, kid," Axel said, pulling his blankets closer.
"You can quit calling me a kid, you know," Roxas teased. "I haven't qualified as a kid in a couple years."
"What does that make you, then? Eighteen?"
Roxas snorted. "I'm twenty-five, dickhead."
"Oh yes, you sound so very mature," Axel sniggered. "Thanks for that middle school flashback, Rox."
"I'll be here all week," the blond muttered.
As the hours ticked by, Axel started to fidget; he complained about getting a crick in his neck from napping in this position, and decided to lay down instead of sit.
"You want me to move up front?" Roxas asked.
"Or you can join me," Axel said, patting the narrow space beside him as he yawned. When he saw Roxas' incredulous expression, Axel huffed. "Look, I'm not trying to get in your pants or anything – I promise."
After a moment of deliberation Roxas gave up his mental battle. He slid down onto his side until he felt Axel's comfortable warmth against his back. Roxas laid there stiffly for a little bit, waiting for Axel to move and put his hand on Roxas' hip or something; Axel never moved, having curled up in his own blanket, content to keep his hands to himself. The blond sighed in relief and his nerves calmed. It was not so much that Roxas was afraid that Axel would take advantage of him or anything like that – Axel probably wouldn't even touch him until he made it absolutely clear that it was ok, if his current stance was anything to consider. Rather it was his ability to say no if Axel did.
He'd only been hitchhiking alongside Axel for a few days, but his heart had started to beat a little faster now in the redhead's presence. His stomach did gymnastics when Axel looked at him, and when they argued back and forth over stupid things like which radio station to stay on. Even now he felt his cheeks redden as Axel curled up to sleep behind him, so close and yet Roxas held himself back. He liked this friendship, and even if he thought about Axel in very different context now and again, Roxas did not want to ruin this by making Axel uncomfortable with his developing feelings. Even if the light puffs of Axel's breath against the nape of his neck were making the butterflies in his stomach do barrel rolls. Despite all of these distractions and vaguely uncomfortable thoughts, Roxas did eventually manage to fall asleep in comfort.
When he woke the next morning, Roxas discovered two things almost instantly: the first was that he was very warm and sweating in the warmth, and the second was that he had rolled over in his sleep and Axel's face was very, very close. Too close, actually, and the realization of CLOSENESS made Roxas jump and try to inch away – but he only succeeded in waking Axel up and falling, flailing, off the edge of the small bed with a loud thump. Axel peered over the edge a few moments later, looking rather disheveled from sleep and groggy to boot. He raised a thin red eyebrow at Roxas. "You decide the floor is more comfortable?"
"No," Roxas grumbled. "I woke up and you were in my face so I tried to get a little distance and I fell."
"Oh, sorry," Axel mumbled, not sounding sorry at all – though he really had no need to be, Roxas chided himself. Axel shrugged the blankets off and clambered ungracefully back into the front seat of the cabin, swinging his legs and body over Roxas, and turned the radio on. "Storm's stopped," he reported a minute later. "The highway should be cleared."
Roxas nodded and muttered his acknowledgement in return, and started to rummage around in the little grocery bag for something to eat. He pulled out a few of the Little Debbie zebra cakes and ate them, all the while questioning Axel's taste in such things. Did he even have taste buds?
The highways may have been cleared, but it was still slow going; they saw flipped-over cars and SUVs that slid off the road every mile or so, so Axel kept their speed to a minimum and drove very carefully. Roxas kept the radio on because he knew it helped Axel concentrate, but otherwise kept his mouth shut so he wouldn't distract him. The eight hours it should have taken them to get to Boston turned out to be more like eleven, nearly twelve – but they got there in the dead of night and Axel drove straight to his drop-off center, leaving the trailer behind, all whilst Roxas snored in the front seat of the car.
Utterly exhausted, Axel still found the energy to drive to a motel and get a room for the rest of the night; even after that, when Roxas proved to be nearly unconscious in his slumber, he pulled the blond from the seat and carried him to their motel room. Axel dropped him gently on one bed, completely undisturbed by the movement, and fell face-first and still clothed onto the other bed, asleep before he hit the mattress.
And so Christmas eve came and went without much notice by Axel or his hitchhiker – and by the time they both woke up in the motel room, groggy and needing showers badly, most of Christmas Day had passed.
"Would you mind giving me a lift to my parents'?" Roxas asked, rifling through his duffle bag for some clean clothes.
"Sure, no problem," Axel said, standing up at the exact same time as Roxas, also with clean clothes in his hands. They stared at each other for a moment, stock still and waiting for the other to move, until all hell broke loose over who would shower first. Axel, unsurprisingly considering Roxas' fighting skills, lost, and stuck his head out the window for a few minutes to breathe fresh air after Roxas' winning armpit attack.
Roxas looked like a different person when he emerged; his hair was clean and actually styled, he smelt of sandalwood motel soap, and Axel had to admit that he looked damn good in the nice pair of jeans he was now sporting. The blond met his stare openly for a moment before Axel rushed in to use what was left of the hot water.
The way over to Roxas' parents' house felt awkward to the blond, though he could tell Axel was trying to mask it by singing his obnoxious Christmas carols as they meandered through suburbia. Roxas stared out the window at the powdery white snow covering the ground elegantly, a stark contrast to the bright lights trimming the houses all along the streets. There were snowmen built in front yards, and snowball fights going on as they passed – and he hadn't seen something like it in almost two years.
It felt good to be back . . . but it didn't feel complete yet.
"This is it," Roxas said quietly, guiding Axel to pull into a driveway to the right. As Axel turned, Roxas could see his parents through the bay window; he could see the tree, his mother's heirloom glass angel perched atop the pine – and he could see his mother as she turned and looked curiously out the window at the front end of an eighteen-wheeler parked in her driveway. He felt his breath catch, wondering if she suspected it was him.
"Look, uh, why don't you come inside?" Roxas asked when his voice returned, turning just enough for Axel to see a set of wide blue eyes and a nervous expression that held the slightest bit of hope. He was fidgeting with his gloves, waiting for Axel to answer.
Initially Axel shook his head. "Naaahhh, you really don't want to be inviting the trucker you hitchhiked with for Christmas dinner with your family – besides, I have to-"
"Oh for fuck's sake," Roxas protested, "get out of the car and come inside. Weren't you the one who said you should be with people you care about on Christmas?" the blond prompted, raising an eyebrow.
Axel's own small eyebrows shot up towards his forehead. "Well yeah, but, I mean, I didn't think-"
Roxas silenced him by tugging Axel into a kiss; he felt the redhead stiffen for a moment before giving in and kissing him back, his tongue pressing between Roxas' lips experimentally. Roxas felt a thrill rush through him, because the feeling of Axel's lips pressed against his felt so inexplicably right and he knew that if he let Axel go right now he'd never see him again – and he definitely did not want to see that happen.
When Axel pulled away he looked down and smiled, shaking his head slightly. Roxas prodded him in the arm, asking him what he was laughing about, and the redhead shook his head again. "Are you sure?" he asked, strands of violently red hair falling artfully across his face.
"You're the one who told me I could do better," Roxas teased, grinning rather madly.
"I wasn't necessarily talking about myself, you know."
"I'm sure, Axel," Roxas answered with sincerity rather than sarcasm. "Come on, let's go inside."
Axel didn't protest this time; he followed Roxas inside – and sure, it was kind of awkward and cute as Roxas' mother forced both of them into ridiculous holiday sweaters while his father doled out spiked egg nog, but Axel got apple pie out of it so he was pleased. He slept out on a comfy couch in the living room that night, and left the next morning to pick up his next delivery with cinnamon buns and coffee in his stomach and the promise to pick up more routes in the Northeast. He figured it was a pretty good deal, giving up long-distance exhaustion for a boyfriend. He had a feeling this was where he belonged now, anyways.