Author's note: Ok so uhh, I haven't written anything for quite some time and this is the first time I write for this pairing but ughh i love them so much I had to do something.
This first chapter is very short, I can assure you that the others will be longer, I just really wanted to put this out there before I continued writing.
oh right disclaimer: I don't own anything, rub it in why don't you
Sea and Stardust
"Everyone who terrifies you is sixty-five percent water. And everyone you love is made of stardust, and I know sometimes you cannot even breathe deeply, and the night sky is no home, and you have cried yourself to sleep enough times that you are down to your last two percent, but nothing is infinite, not even loss. You are made of the sea and the stars, and one day you are going to find yourself again."
—
Finn Butler
People often spoke to him about how teen years are the worst of one's life, but that it eventually turns around. "It gets better" they'd say and he would always get the urge to punch them square in the face. If he'd thought it would solve anything he wouldn't have hesitated.
They'd often tell him their life stories and how fucking miserable they'd been, how difficult life had been – the drugs, the alcohol, the fights – and how one day, it all changed. They found something to cling to, something to build their existence around and live for. Those people had managed to be malleable in a world that did everything in its power to try and smash everything to bits. In that world they had been able to find a place of solace.
Roxas found his solace in debauchery.
Roxas was having a great fucking time for once in his life. He'd finally managed to drown out everything around him – the sounds, the lights, even his own thoughts. All he heard, saw or tasted was a heavy, profound and soothing darkness. It was gentle towards him; they'd known each other for such a long time now that Roxas considered it to be his closest friend.
Sometimes it spoke to him; asked him questions he didn't want to think about, brought him images he didn't want to see or made sounds he didn't want to listen to. This wasn't why he considered the darkness a friend. It was when it was quiet - when it dulled his senses and shut out the world - that he liked it. It was when it made him forget about himself and who he was, like it did tonight.
He didn't really know how he'd ended up where he was, but then again, it wasn't like he cared. It wasn't as if anyone cared.
Well, his mother and brother might have cared a little, but not enough for them to be devastated and call the cops – he'd done this too many times before. His father had stopped caring long ago; Roxas even knew the date and the time, it had been at 16:13, March 27th, the year he'd turned nine.
He cut off his train of thought abruptly. He didn't want to think about anything. He was on his own for an entire evening, he was high and he was drunk. If he'd been the one to decide he wouldn't mind staying where he was for the rest of his life.
To be stuck between hot, sweaty bodies while dancing to earsplitting music in a room which was made into a deathtrap for people with epilepsy, might not be what most people called a 'quiet evening'. But for Roxas to be momentarily detached and relaxed, this was what he had to do.
Momentarily being the keyword.
Roxas was pulled from his rush, slammed back into his body and forced to face reality by a forceful tongue entering his mouth.
He'd been swaying to the rhythmic movements of the crowd, his eyes closed, letting himself be soothed by the darkness in his mind, when the man had grabbed a hold of his face and shoved his tongue down Roxas' throat.
It wasn't as pleasant as the previous rush he'd felt, this was more real and concrete in a way Roxas didn't like – this was reality making its presence known. It wasn't that it was unpleasant; it just meant that – sadly – he was still alive and breathing. It meant that, no matter how hard he wished or longed for it, he wouldn't dissipate into small particles of dust, be carried away and disappear, forgotten and unmissed. He couldn't escape that way.
Roxas barely registered the sudden intrusion, peeled his eyelids back slightly and took a look at the stranger's face, caught the sight of a glazed pair of eyes, just like his own, before he let his tongue push back and demand entrance to the man's mouth.
The pink haired stranger took it as the invitation it was and the hands moved from Roxas' face, down his chest and stopped at either side of his hips.
They tongue wrestled for a while, the kisses growing more vehement by the second. It wasn't long before their crotches rubbed against each other in futile and desperate attempts at release.
This guy had interrupted Roxas' high which meant that he owed him a different sort of rush.
Their moans - muffled by the others' mouth - grew louder, needy and more frequent. Roxas rubbed his length furiously against the other man, hoping he'd understand what it was he wanted.
Luckily for Roxas, he did.
The pink haired man pulled away from him – Roxas fought the urge to whimper when the pressure against his crotch disappeared – grabbed his hand and made his way through the crowd and towards the bathroom with Roxas trailing behind him.
The man pushed open the door and they both stumbled into the bathroom. As soon as his eyes had adjusted to the brightness of the place, he frantically scoured the restroom in search for an empty stall.
There were only three of them, and to Roxas' horror, two of them were occupied while one was missing a door. Roxas looked up to find that the other guy had noticed it too. He released Roxas' hand, clenched his jaw and started tapping his foot loudly against the floor tiles.
Heavy panting and moans were coming from one of the stalls and Roxas figured it was too much to hope for that they'd be finished soon. He could feel his erection slowly die down, taking his desire with it. Once again, he longed for the darkness and he felt a stab of hatred for the pink haired man for destroying the peaceful state he'd been in.
The atmosphere was becoming strained and awkward, which gave Roxas even more of a reason to leave.
"C'mon hurry up! Fuck, there are others who need to use the bathroom", the guy said apparently having lost his patience. His voice was deeper than Roxas had imagined.
"This is not going to go any faster if you're stressing me like that, you know. What has the world come to when you can't even pee at your own pace?" came the reply from one of the stalls. Roxas threw a glance at his company. The guy looked offended and was clearly taken aback by the remark. Roxas couldn't help but smile slightly.
He was always in a bad mood but ever since the man had interrupted him, his mood had plummeted even further. It was now at the point where the promise of getting off didn't appeal to him anymore.
"I'm going to go back", was all he said before he turned to walk out of the door. He didn't get that far before the guy stopped him by grabbing his arm.
"Hey c'mon kid, don't be like that." The grip on Roxas' arm tightened. It was beginning to hurt and he could feel his fingers start to go numb.
"Fuck off. Let go of me", Roxas hissed through his clenched teeth. He was spun around and pressed with his back against the cold wall of the restroom. The stranger towered over him, his hands placed on either side of Roxas' face. He could see that his blue eyes were full of anger. A small seed of fear planted itself within Roxas, but it was numbed by the drugs and alcohol he'd consumed.
"I just need to use that pretty mouth of yours for a couple of minutes. Don't worry; I'm going to do you back." It was getting worse. Images of previous scenarios, so similar to this one, flitted across Roxas' mind. He felt disgusted with himself. This had happened so many times before, more than he cared to count, and every single time he'd been forced into submission.
"I'll get you in the mood again." The man let his hand slide down to Roxas' crotch and started rubbing.
He could feel the familiar tears of humiliation sting in his eyes but he forced them back. They usually spilled over when he was giving head but his partners would always misinterpret them, call him a "good boy" and figure their cocks were too big for his small mouth. They were all fucking vainglorious assholes.
There was a sharp intake of breath and then he was pressing himself against the man's palm. He couldn't focus anymore; he couldn't hear or see anything. The only things that filled his head were the hateful words he was repeating to himself.
"You are a disgusting human being. You are a coward and a weakling who can't even stand up for yourself – you deserve this. You are worthless, of no importance, no one needs you here. Why do you even exist, what's the point?"
"I really think you should stop that."
Roxas was pulled from where he was cowering in the corners of his mind by a voice as harsh and cold as steel. He recognized the voice as the one from the stall a few minutes before. He regained control of his body and opened his eyes blearily to see green and someone's hair on fire.
His initial reaction was that they needed to locate a fire extinguisher, but after his eyes adjusted to the bathroom lighting he noticed that the fire actually was the guy's hair. He'd never seen anything like it and he suddenly got the inexplicable urge to touch it to see if it was hot.
The weird thing was that the guy's hair wasn't the oddest thing about him – it was his eyes. Not even the teardrop tattoos a few inches below were more distinctive than his eyes. They were as green as malachite and they looked alive enough to be able to pierce through steel.
And right now they were fixed on Roxas.
The other guy's hand had stilled but it had yet to move away from his cock.
"I don't think he wants you to touch him. Remove your hand."
Roxas looked around himself bewildered. He knew that he'd been moaning and rocking into the stranger's hand so how did the redhead know that this wasn't what he wanted? His vision blurred temporarily.
Roxas felt something hot roll down his cheek and he realized that he'd failed at keeping his tears at bay. Fuck.
The pink haired man turned to face the redhead, his hand still on Roxas' crotch. He felt like he was going to be sick. He was just standing there, letting a perfect stranger molest him while another one was sticking up for him while he did nothing himself. On the other hand this was what he'd always done. This was his place. What gave him the right to complain?
"Why don't you mind your own business-?"
The redhead didn't let him finish.
"Remove your fucking hand." His voice shook, with what Roxas didn't know, and he had his hands balled into fists. Roxas could see that they were trembling.
What was happening, why was this guy reacting like this? They didn't even know each other, why did he care? Roxas realized that the tears were still streaming from his eyes and he had no way of stopping them.
The two men stared at each other for a while, Roxas couldn't see the pink haired man's face but the redhead wore an expression of disgust.
"Listen Axel-" The pink haired man didn't get any further than that before the redhead's fist connected with his face. The guy crumbled to the floor, his hand sliding from Roxas' genitals. With his hands cradling his face, he started screaming profanities at the redhead. Red liquid spilled through his fingers. Roxas took that moment to flee into the unoccupied stall, lock the door behind him and get rid of the content in his stomach.
The taste of bile was overwhelming and the tears still streamed in a steady flow from his eyes. He feared that if he continued coughing as he was, he'd eventually cough up a lung.
The two men knew each other. They fucking knew each other.
He noticed a faint ringing in his ears as he tried to listen to what was going on outside the stall he was occupying. Beyond the temporary tinnitus he could hear that the profanities and sounds of agony were still erupting from the pink haired man. Roxas' grip on the toilet bowl tightened.
"Just fuck off Marluxia."
Roxas recognized the redhead's – Axel's – voice. He could hear the shuffling of feet and someone opening the door. The music intensified and became louder. There was a brief moment of silence. Roxas held his breath. If a fight broke out, he didn't know what he'd do. Would he cower on the toilet while Axel fought for him?
Of course you would, you coward. You would sit there, crying for yourself while someone you don't even know took punches for you – you, who doesn't even deserves to be protected. It would all be a waste of strength and time for that guy.
Roxas shut his eyes and fought to hold back the sobs.
Marluxia broke the silence with a scoff. Roxas heard him scramble to his feet and then he was snatching paper from the paper towel dispenser in, what Roxas presumed, was an attempt at stopping the blood flowing from his nose.
"You are aware of that Saïx will hear about this right?"
Axel didn't utter a word. Roxas wondered what kind of expression he was wearing.
"You don't care?" Marluxia sounded unconvinced. "Whatever man, it's your funeral." With that he left the bathroom. Axel let the door swing shut after him.
Roxas was sitting on the lid to the toilet with his legs pulled up against him, his chin on his knees, when Axel came to stand outside of his booth. He knocked gingerly on the door.
"Hey kid, are you still in there? You didn't flush yourself down the toilet right?" Roxas could hear the alarm in the redhead's voice. What was he afraid of? The pink haired guy had already left. He could see Axel's shadow from under the door. Judging by the shadow he was leaning against the door, his ear pressed against it.
"Are you ok?"
Roxas was dumbfounded. Who was this guy? He didn't even know Roxas and he'd still cared enough to help him. Why?
And there you have your answer - that's why he did it; because he doesn't know you. He doesn't know how fucked up and disgusting you are.
When he spoke his throat felt raw.
"Just go away. Leave me alone." His voice came out rough and thick with tears. Shit.
Silence settled over them and Roxas could almost hear Axel contemplate what to do next. To deal with the weird kid or to go back and party – that isn't even a question.
Axel suddenly turned and stalked out from the bathroom, leaving Roxas alone with a familiar hollow feeling in his stomach. The tears that had almost stopped running started streaming freely once again. He felt his chest constrict one painful time before he let the sobs tear through his body.
There was movement in the stall next to his and he could hear the sounds of clothes being put on. The door opened and he could hear the people exiting the bathroom.
Some days the world was manageable and others it wasn't. Today had been the latter. He stifled his sobs temporarily to pull out a bottle of pills from his back pocket before dumping its content in his palm. There were enough to knock him out and let him float in assuasive darkness for a few hours.
Before he had the chance to escape from reality, the door opened and Axel was back. What was he doing? What did he want with him? The redhead leaned with his back against the door.
"Hey kid, you still in there?"
Roxas was flabbergasted.
"No", he choked out. The guy snorted.
"I have something for you." Something white was waved in the gap by the floor, catching Roxas' attention. "This symbolizes truce; you need to accept the flag in order for the truce to be initiated though." Roxas didn't know what game the guy was playing at but he was starting to annoy him.
"Fuck off."
"Only if you accept my peace offering, you potty mouth." Roxas made a disgusted face. This guy was unbelievable. Why couldn't he just mind his own business? Roxas was grateful for what he'd done but this was becoming absurd. It was as if the redhead was doing this solely to piss him off. He was still waving the flag.
Roxas sighed and made a fist around his pills, careful not to drop them, before he got up and snatched the flag, which turned out to be a napkin, from the redhead. He then returned to his spot on the toilet.
The guy straightened and when he spoke the mocking tone in his voice had vanished.
"Good. Don't throw it away, my phone number is written on it. I want you to call me if that guy bothers you anymore tonight ok?"
Roxas couldn't form any coherent thoughts, much less sentences. It was still the same question going around in his head: why? Humans were selfish and greedy, Roxas knew this better than most people. They always put themselves first, not caring about those who were left behind, as long as they arrived first. When at their goal they might turn around, take in the devastation and ruins left in their wake, feel guilty for a while but then continue forward. The broken bodies and lives - the guilt - would be forgotten and erased from their minds sooner or later.
So what was this guy doing?
"Hey, do we have a deal?" Axel's voice interrupted his thoughts. Roxas shook his head a few times, as if trying to sort out the jumbled thoughts in his mind.
"Yeah", he croaked before he was able to stop himself. He could hear Axel push himself from the door and turning to face it instead.
"Good", he said again. "Be careful." Then he left the restroom.
Roxas was left alone to stare at the digits on the sheet of paper. He didn't know how long he sat there, but he was still there when the owners started closing the club. Sometime during his rumination he'd returned the pills to the bottle.
When he rose from his position on the toilet seat he had trouble locating most of his limbs. He tried his best to rub some life into them before he staggered out of his booth.
He stopped by the trashcan by the door.
He heaved a deep sigh before discarding the napkin.
aaaaaaand that's the first chapter! ok bye
