Hello, all. Remi here, deciding it's about time I do another bit of AkuRoku. Welcome me back into the fold, you guys. It's time to rock 'n roll.

Enjoy the story, kiddos.

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"Heads up, Roxas!"

"Wh—shit!" The blond was struck in the face with a damp towel. With a few mumbled curses, he tore it off, glaring at the cause of the obstruction to his view. Hayner stood a few yards away, stacking dishes in a pile. The other blond took a glance over to him.

"What're you staring at me for, Rox? Lunch rush! Go!"

"You know, for a best friend, you sure are an ass." He muttered, putting the towel over his shoulder and turning to go out to the main area, blue eyes meeting a crowd he'd only ever imagined in his most hellish of nightmares. The place was literally packed. Hell if he knew why, but this was at least going to get him some good tips. There were people lined against the walls near the door. Some were lingering outside, waiting to see if the crowds would thin out in time for them to get in and grab something. There were plenty of college students, carrying backpacks and laptop cases; there were young men and women on their lunch breaks from their office jobs at the buildings nearby; and then, there were the elderly, the teens, and the occasional family, who really had no place in such a large rush.

The worst part of this whole deal was that Roxas had to take care of each and every one of these customers. Ah, the joys of being a waiter at a popular café! Every type of person to meet, greet, and serve, with no guarantee of respect or anything resembling kindness in return! You wait on their hand and foot, and many times don't even receive a single smile or a word of thanks! The perfect job… for a kiss-up. And Roxas was not a kiss-up. He did not enjoy taking other peoples' shit. He did not enjoy being stepped on. He didn't even like attention from most people. He'd rather be left alone, if it were his choice. He had those few people he cared about, and that was all he needed.

… Well, almost all.

He needed money, too, and that was why the blond was even bothering to handle a job like this. He attempted to work his way through the crowd to one of the newly-seated groups to take their order. The list could have been longer, so he wasn't complaining, but he had three more tables to wait on, and another one to clean. Rushing to complete these tasks, Roxas was rather horrified to find that people were filing in faster by the minute. The lack of parking and line headed out the door wasn't deterring them from being a pain in the ass whatsoever.

"Roxas! Take table six!" Hayner shouted from across the café.

"I just cleaned table six!"

"And I just seated it! Go!"

The boy's order was met with a heavy, exaggerated sigh. Hayner might have been assistant manager, and taking over the position while the actual manager was out for an emergency errand, but this was torture. Still, though, this meant more tips. More tips meant more money. That much, he undoubtedly needed, which was why he was still moving, grabbing that pad from his hip. As soon as he reached the table, he flipped it open, reaching for his pen.

"Sorry for the wait. My name's Roxas, I'll be serving you today."

--or he would have, if he hadn't lost the grip on his pen halfway up from his hip. It hit the ground, and the blond knelt down to reach beneath the table to grab it, muttering a quick 'sorry' to the customer… whose legs were way too damn skinny. Roxas sat up straight and looked up at who he was serving; and was promptly hit full-force with a million things that stood out from every known crowd on the planet.

The first thing he'd noticed was how the guy was built. He was lean. He was… thin. Sleek. He needed a cheeseburger, stat.

… Make that three.

But at the same time, the guy made it work for him. It wasn't hard to think that girls might go after a guy with his body type. And the further up his eyes got, the more attention-grabbing worth he was finding in this patron. He had a high jawbone, and cheekbones just alike. There were even tattoos… or was it makeup on those cheeks, creating the upside-down, long, thin tear marks? Regardless, they were practically arrows dragging attention to the most vibrant green eyes one could ever find. It was almost like they were made of some sort of radioactive chemical.

And then… that hair. It was wild, like fire, and a vivid red to match. The guy must have been a real head-turner, Roxas thought as the guy raised one hand and snapped his fingers.

The blond blinked once… twice. Suddenly his eyes flew wide open, and he straightened on his feet.

"Er—sorry for staring, uh… nn. W-what can I get you?" Shitshitshitshitshitshit. How long was I staring at him?

"Don't worry about it. I'm… used to it." The young man's voice seemed to cut through the crowd and hit him full-force. It wasn't loud, or anything, but it was as noticeable as the rest of him. Other patrons were looking, one or two of the high school girls giggling as he spoke up again, this time much quieter. "Take a deep breath, kiddo, your cheeks are bright red."

That only made it worse. He shook his head, taking that breath and huffing it out. "Sorry, man. It's been a long morning—afternoon—whatever. I'm tired."

"You look pretty busy. Just get me a triple-shot mocha latte—and make it hot. If I can feel my tongue after drinking it, it's too cold," He stated with a simple disregarding wave of his hand, before he cradled the side of his face in the opposite one and… leered up at Roxas.

The blond was raising an eyebrow at the pad. It was an odd order, he had to admit. Most hated their coffee being too hot, and he wanted to nuke his mouth? Well, whatever he--… wait. That feeling. He'd gotten that feeling before. It was the sensation that prickled the hairs of his neck… that… predatory look.

Someone was checking him out.

Blue eyes rose from the pad, and locked gazes with the redhead's green. The two stared at one another for a while, long enough that people were beginning to watch to see what was going on. It looked like the two of them were simply frozen in place, unable to look away or move. That was, until Roxas flipped the pad shut and turned on his heel, toward the kitchen, without a word. He started off at a normal pace, but as he felt those eyes locked onto his backside, he picked up the pace and darted right into the kitchen door—

--and into Hayner. The two boys backed several feet away from one another, catching equipment corners and walls to keep themselves steady. The taller teen stared at him, a little surprised, but Roxas looked like he'd just seen a ghost.

"… Rox? What's wrong? Someone get hurt out there?" Hayner took a few steps toward him, but Roxas closed his eyes and held up one hand.

"There's… a guy out there. "

Hayner stopped, raising an eyebrow and crossing his arms. "Yeah? Who'd a thunk it! Come on, Roxas, we don't have time for joking around right now."

"No! Hayner, he—agh!" The blond shook his head a few times. "He was checking me out."

That one stopped his best friend dead in his tracks, both physical and mental. "… Checking you out? Are you serious? A guy is out there looking you over like candy?"

"I swear to god, he was trying to eat me with his eyes." Roxas threaded fingers through his hair, gripping a bit. "I've had girls check me out before, but this is a serious first."

Hayner stepped to him and put a hand on his shoulder. "Chill out, Rox. Can't be that bad. You're overreacting, just calm down and get back to work, huh?"

The taller blond slid out of the kitchen, leaving Roxas to himself. Unable to control himself, he leaned his head forward, then hit it back into the wall. If Hayner knew he'd been checking him out as well, he'd never hear the end of it. However, it would probably answer his question of why he was 'overreacting' to the situation. All he'd be getting would be comments about 'Oh, Rox, didn't know you were gay!' and 'Hey, no checking out my ass'.

Tch. Best friends.

Roxas moved away from the wall, headed toward the machines to start making that order of his. He set the cup underneath the nozzle and turned it on, losing his real focus as he concentrated more on the matter at hand. He was going to have to go back out there. Back out into that jungle of a café, back through the thicket of bodies to the damned abomination to his sexuality. He wasn't gay. He wasn't even bisexual. So why couldn't he shake the image of those eyes? They were so green, so piercing—wrapping themselves around him and keeping him tight in place, not letting him think, not letting him breathe. How could a pair of eyes even do that? How could… how could…

Roxas was brought back to harsh reality by a shout from a co-worker. He snapped out of it quickly as he realized the coffee was overflowing. In a panic, he reached out and grabbed the cup, getting quickly burned by the scalding hot coffee. With a loud yelp, the cup flew through the air and into the sink full of water. He ran after it, holding his wrist and putting the faucet over to the empty side and turning on the cold water. The blond shoved his hand underneath and hissed as the conflicting temperatures seared his pain tolerance. There were a few muttered curses and 'I'm fine's to the concerned staff, but in his mind, he was stringing words that would have his ancestors rolling in their graves.

This was all that perverted asshole's fault. He was checking him out, and he got him worked up. He got him all freaked out and intellectual and mentally poetic, and then this happens because of it. Damn him and his good looks, and damn him and his leering eyes. Just damn him in general! Roxas hoped whatever God was in charge of damnation would make sure the redhead regretted making eyes at his ass on his way into the kitchen.

Yessir, if he wouldn't get fired for it, that guy's ass would be fried. But since he would lose his job, he was going to settle for being a general little jerk.

He fixed up a new coffee and stepped out into the crowd, making his way over to the redhead's table with a certain grace in the way he sidestepped and spun through the obstacles other employees were calling patrons. When he reached the target, he set the cup down and, without making eye contact, turned on his heel. "Hope it burns you."

With a raised eyebrow, the enemy spoke. "What's with the royal treatment, sunshine?"

Roxas stopped. He turned. His legs carried him right back to the abomination to the human race. "Excuse me?"

"You know, I could report you for being rude to a customer who hasn't done anything wrong," He chided, leaning on one hand.

"I'm a little too busy to chat. Drink your coffee while it's still scalding." The blond turned to walk away again, but a second after he heard the sound of fabric shifting against fabric, his wrist was caught, and he was being dragged back. His hand was being held up for inspection. "What are you doing?!" Roxas tried to bring it back, but he couldn't break the man's grip.

"Chill. Where'd you get the burn?"

Roxas' eyebrows furrowed. The guy looked… worried. Why was he worried? "I work in a kitchen, what do you think?"

"Did you get that fixing my order?" There were those eyes, making contact again with cerulean.

"—uh… That doesn't make a difference." Roxas was sure his cheeks were tinting again. This guy was… too forward. Way too forward.

"So you did."

"I didn't say that."

"You didn't have to." His hand was released, and the man stood with his coffee in hand. It was then that Roxas realized just how tall he was. The redhead practically towered over him—and he would continuously argue that it wasn't his lack of an average height for a seventeen-year-old to blame for that. The man reached into his pocket, pulling out a slip of paper and handing it to him. It was a twenty. "Keep the change, kiddo. And be more careful. I'll get out of the way."

"Your order was less than five bucks, you don't have to—"

"I know I don't have to. I want to." He paused, before looking down at Roxas, the corners of his lips pulling back in a grin that the blond likened to that of the Cheshire Cat. "And besides…"

He tapped under Roxas' chin. "Consider it my thanks for your being so easy on the eyes, Roxy."

With that, he turned on his heel and walked out of the establishment, leaving a slowly simmering Roxas in his wake. Currently, he was attempting to hex whoever made it regulations that one had to give their name to those they served. But soon, it would be himself for apparently being cute, and then the redhead for being… everything that he was.

And he would have continued to go on with his mental rant had he not turned with the twenty in hand and… come face-to-face with hell.

"… Roxas, I've known you for years. You're a pretty upbeat guy. Pretty perky on a good day. But when someone does something you don't like, you're quick to punch them out, no matter the circumstances."

"… Hayner, don't even. Don't even go there."

"You liked that. You liked that!"

Roxas quickly clapped his hands over his ears, going to the kitchen. "I'm not listening to this!"

"Admit it, Roxas! That guy was hitting on you and you liked it!"

The crowd of people stared on as the two blonds disappeared to the kitchen. A few turned in on each other, and started whispering. A few laughed, a few giggled. But each and every one of them heard it—

The taunting tone of voice… and the frustrated scream from behind the closed kitchen doors.

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Well! This came out much nicer than I'd expected it to. C: I am thoroughly pleased with this. But it needs reviiieeeewwwws. Also, don't expect the real-life love to keep going. Not staying 'natural' for too long~

Peace out.

~Remi~