AN: All credit to Nijuuni on deviantART for the idea - there's a link to the fantastic picture I used as inspiration in my profile. It was begging to have a story written about it. Characters belong to SquareEnix, not me.

The compartment door slid open, rattling in its frame, and causing the blond occupant to look up from his book. Muttered greetings passed between him and the newcomer, who tossed his bag under the unoccupied bunk before sitting down by the window. Roxas, the blond, had known he wouldn't be lucky enough to get a compartment to himself, but maybe this wouldn't be too bad. His redheaded companion looked a few years older than him, with scruffy hair pulled back in a ponytail. Surely a colour that vibrant couldn't be natural. Not like it mattered though. They weren't going to see each other again after this train journey.

Roxas could feel the other man looking at him, studying him closely. He always knew when he was being watched. Slowly, he raised his head, meeting a pair of bright green eyes. Kairi would have described them as emerald, but he didn't want to think about her. He was leaving all of that behind. That's why he was on this train – to find a new place where he could start over, without anyone having any expectations of him. Briefly, he wondered why the man with him was making the journey, but he wouldn't ask. They were strangers, and whatever his reasons, they were private.

For the first two or three hours, they were silent; Roxas read his book, while the other stared out of the window, watching the scenery pass by. Now though, it was just field after field, nothing much to look at.

Roxas didn't expect it when the train suddenly slowed, so he didn't have time to brace himself. The abrupt change in momentum launched him out of his seat, onto the floor. Most people would have laughed at the blond, sprawled out on the floor of the compartment. But not the redhead, who simply reached out a hand to help him back up.

"Thanks."

"No problem. That's why I don't like facing backwards." He gestured to his own seat, which faced forwards. Looking back at Roxas, he brushed a lock of blond hair out of the younger man's eyes. The train lurched again, throwing them against one another. Arms automatically wrapped around the other person's waist, in an attempt to stay upright, but as their eyes met again, both could see the mutual attraction, and their lips touched, gently at first.

Moving to sit on one of the bunks, Roxas was pulled onto the redhead's lap. The kisses were becoming more passionate, more insistent. Roxas moved his hands to tangle in long red hair, softer than he'd expected, considering how spiky it looked. He felt arms wrap tightly around him, hands sliding under his top, and he wanted this. He wanted it more than he'd wanted anything for a long time. And he knew, in that moment, that it didn't matter to either of them that they were still strangers. It wouldn't change anything. Maybe part of the reason they could do this was because they didn't know each other – they were nobodies to each other. They didn't even have names, right now.

It all meant nothing, or so Roxas believed – the insistent kisses, the desperate touches, the pleading whimpers he hadn't even realised he was making until now. They were just two strangers taking the same train ride to nowhere, who were sharing a little bit more (ok, a lot more) than just a compartment. Even so, it was helping Roxas to fill the empty void that resided where his heart used to lie, until it had been ripped out, torn apart and trampled on by the boy he was trying so hard to forget.

Roxas believed that these were all just mindless, instinctive reactions, at least until he heard the redhead murmuring softly in his ear.

"My name is Axel."

Roxas sat back slightly, looking at him properly for the first time. This movement caused his crotch to press against Axel's, eliciting a delicious groan from the redhead.

"Mine's Roxas."

He wasn't entirely sure why he'd said that, but it seemed only fair to volunteer his name in return.

No more was said for quite some time, as they kissed and explored each other's bodies thoroughly. Plenty of gasps and sighs of pleasure could be heard, as well as whispers of encouragement.

As the journey came to an end, they helped each other back into their clothes, preparing to leave. While Roxas sorted out the bunk, Axel packed Roxas's long forgotten book back into his bag.

"So long, Roxas. Maybe we'll see each other again, sometime."

"Maybe. Bye, Axel."

Roxas wasn't holding out too much hope. It had been a chance encounter – passionate, yes, but just a one-time thing. Not, of course, that he'd mind if he did happen to run into the redhead again. He picked up his bag, slinging it on his back, and set off down the road, stuffing his hands in his pockets. Something crackled under his fingers, and he pulled the item out. It was a folded piece of paper, which definitely hadn't been there before. Opening it, there was a phone number, and the words "call me" written there. Roxas grinned to himself. It looked like he would be seeing Axel again, after all.

AN: Read and review, people. Reviews are what authors live on.