Roxas has his arms around Axel's waist and is pressed closer than ever before, and somehow he's found it in him to feel manipulated.
Though it makes sense, the tundra blazing all around them with about as much heat as his very own pants - after they'd been dipped in liquid nitrogen. He shivers, and Roxas feels it and tightens his grip.
Because Axel is warm and firey and his skin emanates heat, filling Roxas with literal warmth as they trudge on the ice with difficulty, Roxas almost dragged behind him and laughing when the elder boy puts a foot wrong and almost drags them both down. He laughs even more when they are righted, sighing with relief, and it is then that they fall heavily onto their asses, uttering nothing but a strangled cry and a half-hearted groan when the floor underneath them makes a sickening crack.
Axel's not sure if the noise was the ice or his bottom and tell Roxas so with relish, frowning playfully on realising that the blonde boy has gotten up by himself, and ignored Axel's plight. He mutters something vague about losing a radiator and Roxas shrugs, hearing it as clear as day. He offers his hand and reattatches himself to Axel's waist, a little limpet walking in step with the redhead once more. They're looking for nobodies, searching for frozen bodies without hearts. Axel, because he melts the snow. Roxas, because they are Axel-and-Roxas, and nothing in that area ever, ever changes.
Axel smiles impishly and tells his friend that did he notice they were practically doing it right now? and Roxas does his best not to splutter with indignation, instead choosing to summon his keyblade and calmly beat his friend with it, still hanging on because yes, he agrees, they are closer than usual at the moment, but Axel will never ever get his hands on Roxas - so he figures it's worth it to tease. And Axel pouts and tries to avoid concussion.
It seemed like it was getting colder.
Axel has icicles on his eyelashes and turns to look at Roxas, smiling when he realises the boy has almost fallen alseep, still clinging around his middle and letting himself be dragged forward. He carefully detatches the boy and crouches down, smiling at weary eyes with such innocence that Roxas never had thought possible. He says would you like a ride, the words missing their usual innuendo, and Roxas obliges, clouded by the misty cold that is making him blink furiously. He is only a little surprised when lifted into the other boy's arms and carried on his shoulder, because he can feel the heat from Axel's chest and he says soft as anything that he'd gladly trade any hope of a heart for a permanent Axel radiator.
And Axel knows he doesn't mean it but grins all the same.