Just a little something to prove I'm still alive! Drabbly thing done on deviantart. Only put in the friendship category because it's not really romancey.

When Roxas woke up, he was content. He hadn't been content for a long time.

Roxas hadn't been anything for a long time.

Roxas was disoriented; he slammed a hand down on his dresser in search of his cell phone. He brought it close to his face and cracked an eye open.

Ten seventeen.

Roxas was late for work again. He rolled over hoping to fall back asleep. Olette would be pissed but he was too warm, too sleepy, and he didn't want to put on any pants. Roxas curled around the warm body next to him and felt lithe muscles curl around him. He tucked his head into an elbow.

Roxas' head was pounding.

Roxas shifted and shoved his face into the crevice of a neck soaking in warmth.

"Hey that tickles, Roxybear." A hand groggily swatted at Roxas.

Roxas froze.

"I didn't mean you had to quit breathing." A man said rolling over to look at Roxas.

The man stared at Roxas, Roxas stared at the man.

Silence persisted.

Holy shit.

Roxas screamed and pulled the sheets over his bare chest.

And then it came to him, it wasn't his bed. Or his room.

Or his house.

Holy shit.

It all came back to Roxas in one of those spiraling flashbacks you see in movies.

Flashback

He was standing outside the gates of the Old Mansion, like he had been doing for every day that week. He never tried to go in, never thought to go in, just stared blankly at the entrance for hours. He did everything blankly now, it was tragically jaded and emo, but it was true. He had been using Sora's name, he didn't know who Sora was, but he knew he wasn't Sora.As the sun climbed higher in the sky Sora braided grass into bracelets the way Olette had taught him. He thought about Hayner and Pence, but he mostly just stared.

Around noon a black patch of dark cut apart the air, making everything around it seem thinner. Roxas rose as the black clad figure stepped out like he was emerging from a tar pit.

"Do you want to know?" The man asked stepping forward to meet Sora. Sora nodded slightly before his gaze returned to the ground, staring at the man's boots flecked with bits of grass and mud. Sora looked up as the man cast a hand in front of his face, the name he had stolen was glowing in front of him, catching the afternoon sunlight.

Sora.

"You feel nothing." The man said pausing to take a breath. "You can feel nothing. Do you want a meaning?" Sora knew the man already knew the answer to that question so he just stared at the shining letters.

The letters began to swirl around Sora glowing with an iridescent blue light. The man slammed a hand in front of Sora and he struggled not to flinch. A glimmering "X" appeared in the center of the letters R, O, A, and S.

Sora lifted his head to look at the letters as they turned a shade of gold.

"Roxas." He said.

"A new you." The man said grinning at him with piercing eyes.

Roxas stared up at the man and smiled.

Later That Day

Roxas was now wearing a coat.

A long black trench coat and a pair of shiny black boots.

Both of which were a size too big for him. Roxas stared across the tops of buildings and took a tiny bite of the ice cream slowly melting in his hand. He licked up one of the rivulets on his hand and stared some more, this time at the redhead sitting beside him.

Axel.

Roxas thought of him as an acquired taste, like the ice cream he was eating. When Xemnas first told him Axel would be his mentor Roxas had almost punched the guys face in and told him to forget it. The guy gave off an aura of douche bagginess, from the way he stuck his finger to his head and said, "The name's Axel, got it memorized?" To the way he looked at Roxas disinterestedly as he shoved the trench coat and boots at him. Roxas had scowled and bore it. But as they sat together on the clock tower he felt like they were bonding. Axel was starting to get under his skin, like those little red bugs that would crawl under that first layer of epidermis and lay eggs when Roxas used to go camping with Hayner to smoke pot. They were annoying as hell, but at the end of the weekend if Roxas didn't come home red and itchy he felt like he'd been ripped off.

Axel turned to look at Roxas. "Wow, this ice cream really is salty."

Roxas rolled his eyes and finished eating his ice cream.

That Night

Roxas was cold. No, Roxas was numb.

He pushed the covers off and tipped over the vase that sat on the white stand beside his bed. He watched it fall and stared as it broke into a thousand tiny pieces with a echoing crash. He grabbed his cell phone and mashed down a button.

One thirty eight.

Roxas rolled onto his back his boxers sliding down his hips. He couldn't think, he couldn't breath, he couldn't feel. Roxas got up and left the room not even bothering to put on a pair of pants or a shirt. He stood outside his door and looked at the roman numerals that were nailed onto his door. A shiny silver thirteen. He walked past doors with similar roman numerals. Twelve, eleven, ten, nine, eight…

He stopped at eight and stared at the glossy metal on the door.

Roxas brusquely knocked three times. Cursing and shuffling came through the door before it was jerked open. Axel stood shirtless and groggy, hair pulled into a ponytail, eyes peering down at Roxas through thick glasses.

"I didn't know you wore glasses." Roxas said leaning against the doorframe.

"I was reading." Axel said going back into his room. Roxas followed behind him, shutting the door.

"I didn't know you could read." Roxas said.

"Oh har de har har, look who's Mr. Hilarious at one fifty two in the morning." Axel went to rummage behind a bookshelf.

"I couldn't sleep."

Axel pulled out an old game. "Want to play Parcheesi?"

Roxas shrugged as Axel pulled out the game pieces.

End Flashback

Roxas snuck back to his room before anyone else in the castle woke up.

Three Weeks Later

Roxas lay awake. Early morning sunlight streamed through the curtains. Not enough to wake someone, but enough to leave tiny pinpoints of light dotting the surface of Axel's skin. He looked so still. It seemed like an amazing thing to see Axel still. Even when he was sitting and at peace he wasn't truly still. He seemed to be in constant motion, buzzing with a nondescript energy. Only in sleep was he not thinking, mulling over his complex thoughts, despite constant teasing and fighting, Roxas was sure Axel had a big brain hidden under that hair. The brain of a poet, or something equally gooey and romantic, constantly searching for meaning and noticing the tiniest details, even if he sometimes failed to see the big picture. Roxas ran a hand through Axel's hair, the chunks that were previously so painstakingly gelled coming apart and sticking to Roxas' fingers. Axel's eyeliner was smudged, making it look like he had bruises marring his angular face. Roxas wiped away a small clump of makeup and lightly tapped the tattoo under his left eye. In the pale glow of morning he looked even more like a clown. Roxas didn't think to hide the smile tugging on the corners of his lips. He gently lifted one of Axel's arms and entwined himself in it.

Axel had a secret.

He hadn't really been asleep.