To Map Out The Stars

by JustSayNoToPants

Roxas would follow his professor to the ends of the earth - and does. Indiana Jones crossover, Indy!Axel and companion!Roxas, AkuRoku.

Title: To Map Out The Stars

Pairing: Axel x Roxas

Rating: M

Words: 15,600~

Disclaimer: I don't own any of the following: Axel, Roxas, Indiana Jones, Mexico.

Warnings: Slight homophobia and sexism, inaccurate historical and geographical information, terrible terrible language, ritualistic torture, adventures, non-detailed heterosexual sex, boys kissing other boys, and (finally) boy on boy sex.

A/N: This plot bunny is courtesy of ravewalker, who mentioned that Indy!Axel and bitchy companion!Roxas was something she needed in her life on twitter, and darthvair_65, who got flaily and excited when I decided to do it. So I dedicate this fic to them, for being amazing and beautiful and asdfjkl I love you guys! There's definitely going to be a sequel or two in the works for this, I love this 'verse way too much to just leave it here! Also for the prompt 'Flame', from the Alphabet Meme.

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Roxas did not like fire.

He felt it was a reasonable fear, but we'll come back to that later.

The point is, though the kid didn't do flames, he was kind of flamingly homosexual. And he kind of had a thing for his Archaeology and Sacred Ancient Artifacts professor, who happened to look like his head was more or less permanently on fire. This Roxas didn't mind, because he would be more than happy to thread his fingers through that obnoxiously red hair and pull that mouth down to his lips.

Roxas' adoration of Professor Sinclair was borderline obsession. He registered in every class the man had that corresponded with his degree in Ancient Civilizations, showed up at every class the man taught that didn't clash with his schedule. He was at every seminar, every public speaking, and even knew where and when the red head would go to get his coffee. The blond worshipped him, read all of his research and knew every article ever written by or on the man from beginning to end.

Roxas was quite sure that his obsession with Sinclair would have ended with just his archaeology work had the blond never saw him. Roxas had been reading his work since he was sixteen, when the man had excavated the ruins of the Black Taj in India. Roxas, who was known to be quite unhealthily obsessed with many things, had a love affair for Indian architecture - especially that which was rumored to exist but never to have been either found or actually documented being built. Once he caught wind of the uncovering of the Black Taj, he devoured every piece of writing to even mention Axel Sinclair. He chose his university based on the fact that Sinclair taught there, worked to get the grades for acceptance. He took as many of the man's classes he could fit into his schedule, despite the warnings that Professor Sinclair was prone to leaving randomly for weeks. He would leave his T.A.s in charge of his classes and travel the world, uncovering artifacts and various other ancient things that had been long-ago lost. Roxas didn't care - he signed up for six of them in his first year.

The moment the red head stepped into the lecture hall - hair pulled back into a mussed pony-tail and wire-rimmed glasses perched on his long nose - Roxas knew he was done for. The blond sat in the very front row, surrounded by girls fluttering their eyelashes, every day of every class. He strived to get the top mark in all of Sinclair's classes, which was really the only way that Roxas thought he could get his Professor to notice him - especially when the girl's shirts got lower cut and their skirts swung higher and higher around tanned thighs.

So Roxas studied, and he researched, and he bit his lip through the pain and heartbreak of Professor Sinclair's absences. He brought his homework to a small café on campus, watched Axel with one eye while he talked animatedly with other professors at a table not far from his own. He relished in the way his professor's large hands were constantly moving, the way his green-as-grass eyes shone, the way his torso leaned against the chair with one arm bent casually over the back. He also watched when the professor would talk to girls from his class, which was a completely different story. He leaned forward, eyes narrowed and lips pulled up in a devilish smirk. He watched those eyes rake over artistically exposed skin, watched a single eyebrow lift in disdain for the vapid words escaping from between glossed lips. In the event the girl was intelligent, Roxas could still see a sort of dislike from the tense line of his shoulders. He witnessed Axel smirk, watched him take the girls by the hand, leading them out and away to do God-knows-what.

Roxas watched for days that turned to months that turned to years, spending his time researching archaeological digs and findings in South America and Asia and Africa. He had nearly finished his first four years of school before any of his hard work came to fruition. His midterm paper, written on human sacrifices to the Aztec god Tezcatlipoca at the ruins of Teotihuacan, was the final piece that Roxas needed to garner his professor's attention.

Roxas received an letter three days after handing in the paper, inviting him to meet Axel at his office. It didn't say much else, but the way Roxas' chest tightened to the point of becoming light headed left little room for questions or, even less likely, refusal. So, Roxas woke up the next morning three hours before his meeting, to shower and painstakingly style his hair and fuss over his clothing like a sixteen year old girl going to a dance. He sat outside Axel's office building for forty-five minutes, legs bouncing and hands shaking in anticipation until finally, finally, he went inside and hit the button for the eighth floor in the elevator.

He slowly sauntered down the hallway, checking the numbers at the doors until he hit number 813, office of Professor Axel F. Sinclair, if the name plate had anything to say about it. He held his breath as he rapped on the door, waiting until he was called in by a very familiar voice that made heat coil up under his navel.

"Uh, hi, professor. I'm, um, I'm Roxas." He mumbled, stepping into the office through the barely opened door. The office was all muted colors and polished woods and floor-to-ceiling windows and did nothing but frame the man.

"You're Roxas? Shit, here I thought you'd be some nerdy kid with bad acne and worse glasses. Here, have a seat, make yourself at home," he said, waving to a comfortable looking chair in antiqued brown leather as he finished writing something in the notebook in front of him. He was a beam of light and colour in the room, and Roxas was plain, so plain. It was hard, when all he did was take pieces of other's brilliance, creating for himself a messy, patchwork star that could and would never shine as bright as Axel's did.

"So, Roxas," the man said as he turned from his work to lay his eyes on him, "I'm sure you know that I'm a fan of keeping copies of the papers that catch my interest, and of using them in examples in my classes; or just reading them to remind myself that the human race isn't completely stupid and teaching isn't a lost cause. However, I don't usually recognize names. Or even read them, really. But as I was putting your most recent paper into a drawer in my filing cabinet, I noticed your name." Roxas was sitting stiffly, head bowed and face flushed.

"Honestly, I didn't realize that one single person would take so many of my classes. Do you realize that I have more than 20 of your papers filed away?" Axel's head cocked to the side, one short eyebrow raised high.

"I, uh, I just really admire your work, Professor, and-"

"Axel, please. Call me Axel." Roxas' face flushed deeper, eyes falling back to his lap. He couldn't look at the man he'd watched for so many years - he didn't know if it was the intensity of those glittering green eyes, the predatory line of his body, or the fact that after all his watching he'd never seen both characteristics at the same time.

"O-okay."

"Y'see, Roxas, I was looking to replace one of the T.A.s that's graduating from their Masters this year. After reading your paper on Aztec ritual sacrifice, I thought that I would ask you to take the job, considering that you're probably looking into graduate studies." Roxas' head shot up, face considerably paler and mouth slack in surprise. He had never imagined this, not in a thousand years. It was more than he ever could have hoped for, even after nearly six years of obsession.

"However, then I found the other papers hidden away and I started having second thoughts." Just as Axel's words sank in, Roxas put his hope away before it could be crushed, face dropping again - this time to mask his disappointment.

"A kid like you, Roxas - kids like you don't come around very often. Smart and willing to do the research, sure, they come a dime a dozen. But it's not very often you find someone who isn't only interested in this line of work, but a kid who has opinions on everything, who has theories that go beyond what anyone has thought before. You build on everything you research, you go past what has already been done, and that, kid, that's special." The corners of Roxas' mouth started quirking up, spreading into a full-fledged smile.

"Thank you, sir, that's really high praise coming from you." Axel's eyebrow raised, smirk widening a fraction.

"Yeah? Sweet. Anyways, I have a bit of a...a project, you might say. Coming up this summer. You, uh - might have to postpone your graduate studies if you agree, but..." Axel rubbed the back of his neck, removing his glasses before looking back up at Roxas, who happened to be grinning like a drunken lout.

"I kinda planned this trip, you see. There're these ruins outside of Merida in Mexico, just north-east, and there are rumors of a golden idol of sorts. The locals in the area were wiped out by a series of hurricanes in the late 1800's, and I've been thinking about going and recovering it for a long time. And, since I like what I've seen of your intelligence and creativity so far, I want to...extend an invitation, let's say." Roxas' face was once again wiped clean of any expression, staring at Axel until he looked away and bit the inside of his cheek.

"Well, I mean, only if you wanna come, you don't, like, have to. And, uh, it's a pretty good opportunity if you want to go into this kind of work. Not that I'm trying to sound arrogant or anything, but I'm pretty sure if you do a bit of name dropping around the right people and with your grades you could probably get into whatever program you wanna be in and-" Roxas couldn't help but think the deterioration of Axel's vocabulary was cute before cutting him off.

"Uh, yes." Axel blanched a bit, looking back at the blond with wide eyes.

"Yes?"

"Yes, I want to come with you for however long it's going to take." Axel's smile bloomed, and the bottom of Roxas' stomach fell out.

"Really? 'Cause, fucking eh, this will be way better with someone like you around than going by myself."

When Roxas left Axel's office, it was with the world's goofiest grin, the red head's phone number written on a stray piece of paper, and the promise of at least four months with the most interesting and beautiful man Roxas had ever met.

~x~

Roxas thought he was going to drop to his knees and kiss the ground after getting off the final plane. It wasn't an overly long plane ride, but it was cramped and warm and very uncomfortable, and Roxas was very unhappy about strangers getting in his personal space. It was, after all, a rather small passenger plane, and only the wealthiest of folks could afford seats.

He especially disliked it when he could hear Axel talking from a few rows ahead of him, and he imagined what he would look like, wildly gesturing and bright eyed. Which lead to imagining his mouth, and all of it's possible uses. Which lead to squirming and disgusted looks and Roxas just really, really didn't like flying.

In Mexico City, Axel and Roxas made their way east to the Gulf of Mexico, where they boarded a cargo ship headed for Merida. This was how Roxas found that he was slightly prone to sea sickness, which had Axel guffawing loudly and asking one of the sailors - with rather bad Spanish - if he had something to settle the blond's stomach.

"You're a dick," Roxas mumbled from the top bunk, listening to Axel chuckle whenever they would hit a particularly large wave and come crashing down, making Roxas groan and desperately hold the meager contents of his stomach in.

"You love it, kid." Roxas just grunted, turning over in his bunk to the loud amusement of the red head underneath him. The blond only hoped his groans sounded like he was sick and not like he was trying to force his body to calm down.

However, after the first day, Roxas' sea sickness abated and the kid was able to walk around on deck, if a bit unsteadily. Roxas poured over the documents they were bringing, everything from articles on the terrain to legends that made it through the destruction of the locals in the area. Axel ran about the deck, hauling ropes and checking cargo and speaking almost obnoxiously loud. He was forever a spot of red on Roxas' peripheral vision - which the blond found comforting, though he would roll his eyes and sigh audibly.

They made landfall that evening, after the sun had fallen out of the sky and everything was bathed in violet twilight. Roxas' unsteadiness on solid ground made Axel laugh and throw an arm around the other's shoulders.

"I don't fucking get it, why does it seem like you're good at everything?" Roxas grumbled, pushing Axel's arm away before his body could read into it and leave Roxas in a rather uncomfortable position. Axel just laughed, head tossed back and looking ephemeral in the half-light. Roxas jabbed him in the ribs, shaking his head and mentioning that Axel had some black shit on his face.

"Really? Where?" Axel asked, scrubbing at his jawline.

"Oh, is that a little vanity I see, Mr. Sinclair?" Roxas smirked, rolling his eyes yet again.

"I believe that's Doctor Sinclair to you, and I can't get laid if I have black shit on my face." Roxas ignored the twinge in his chest and yanked the collar of Axel's shirt. Roxas rubbed the black smudge, huffing when it only seemed to spread. Axel started sniggering right around the same time that the edges of the smudge sharpened.

"Those aren't gonna come off, no matter how much elbow grease you throw into it, Rox." The blond's mouth fell open.

"Axel, is that a tattoo on your face?" Roxas' answer was a loud peal of laughter as Axel sped away, ducking into a small hotel and leaving the blond with all of the bags and a disbelieving expression.

As it turned out, Axel had not one, but two tattoos on his face - which he hid with cover up while in North America, where the scandal of it all would drive people away.

"So, seems like you're more like a girl than I thought," Roxas said, hissing when Axel hit him upside the back of the head.

"Not even, short stop." Axel stalked off, seemingly put off by the comment. Roxas felt himself frown, watching as Axel left the hotel building and entered a bar down the street.

The blond just shrugged it off, going to find something to eat and fall into his bed early. They'd be leaving at the ass crack of dawn with a group of locals to lead them to the idol, and he really didn't want to drop off while atop a horse.

Roxas was awoken a couple hours later by something falling and heavy breathing. Roxas squeezed his eyes shut, rubbing at them hard, trying to shake off the grogginess to see what was wrong. He could smell sweat and cheap tequila, and when he squinted across the room he saw a dark, moving mass on Axel's bed. It took a moment and a drawn out moan with a feminine tone for him to realize what was happening, which caused his eyes to widen and his chest tighten to the point of asphyxiation. Roxas was frozen, looking on in complete disbelief as they got louder and moved faster and went completely still in a matter of minutes. Roxas turned over, body tense and fighting off angry tears as he heard clothing rustling, a few whispered goodbyes, a low laugh from Axel, and finally the door closing.

Axel fell into an alcohol-induced sleep, and Roxas lay awake for hours, finally falling asleep as the sky started to lighten with a wet pillow and eyes that felt like sandpaper.

Axel woke Roxas up once again, kicking his bed with a sleepy grin and stretching his arms above his head. Roxas squinted and sat up to try and wake himself up before remembering the unfortunate events from the previous night, giving Axel a life-ending glare. Axel did a confused, sleepy double take.

"What? We have to go, I'm sorry."

"Not that, you absolute twat. I can't believe you came into the room you suggested we share and fucked some random chick while you thought I was asleep." Roxas couldn't recognize the emotion in the other's features, but it quickly flipped to a self-assured smirk.

"What, you're actually going to get mad at me for getting some tail?" Roxas' jaw dropped, fury building.

"What the fuck, douche bag! I wake up in the middle of the night to you fucking someone and you don't want me to be mad?" Roxas voice was growing in volume as he threw the blankets off himself and shoved his few possessions into a worn satchel. He slammed out of the room before Axel could retort, leaving the red head staring at the door. His head fell back as he sighed heavily, pinching the bridge of his nose.

"Fuck."

For how mad Roxas was, he thought he was going to choke when Axel sauntered out of the hotel and into the street. He'd put his glasses away ("I only really need them when I'm reading, Rox."), trousers tucked into his boots and leather jacket swinging around his torso. Any remaining make up had been scrubbed from his face, making his tattoos sharp on his cheeks, and he had a worn, brown hat placed over his hair - not to mention the whip coiled at his side and the gun slung from his hip. Axel met the blond's eyes, and Roxas snapped his head in the opposite direction - this had nothing to do with being mad at Axel and everything to do with regulating his heartbeat. Roxas attached his possessions to the saddlebags of his horse, pulling himself up and throwing his leg across the saddle.

They set off not ten minutes later, and the trek through the jungle was fairly eventless. Roxas ignored Axel whenever he tried to talk to him, unless it was to snap vague insults at the air in front of him. Axel would always pull back, muttering something about passive-aggressive blonds and it was one time, jeez. Finally, Axel had had enough. He stopped his horse in front of Roxas', holding the bridle and waving the others to go on ahead.

"I'm sorry, okay? I wasn't thinking and I didn't know that you'd be so upset about it and I'm sorry." Roxas wanted to tell Axel exactly what he thought about him - leaving out everything about how Roxas was pretty sure he was in love with the man - before he realized that being a pouty little bitch wasn't doing much for the situation. So, instead, Roxas rolled his eyes and punched Axel's shoulder and suddenly all of the angry tension rushed from between them.

The sexual tension, though, that was still there. Whether Axel noticed it or not.

The group rode around the jungle for a week, picking their way through thick foliage and trying to figure out where they took their latest wrong turn. Axel and Roxas shared a tent, though Roxas was skeptical at first - especially with the two women in their party. Axel waved off his concerns, choosing to ignore the heated stares the women gave him over the fire at night. He would always retire to the tent with Roxas, inane chatter carrying on until they were falling asleep mid-sentence.

Roxas thought it was slightly strange that the red head didn't try to bed at least one of the women they were with - mostly because Axel was a womanizer and a bit chauvinistic - but he kept that to himself and tried not to see romantic inclinations whenever Axel would leap off his own horse to lead Roxas' or give the blond the rest of his water when Roxas' canteen ran dry or when the arm slung around his shoulders slipped down to his waist around the fire at night.

After nearly eight days of wandering through the jungle, seemingly lost, Axel found one of their landmarks about a foot off their path and hidden behind a palm frond. The words Axel used to describe their guides' ineptness made Roxas squeak and hit the other, drawing peals of laughter that echoed through the humid jungle. Finally, after Axel had found the third landmark that the others didn't even seem to be looking for, he took the lead with Roxas not far behind him. Axel rode at a fast pace, his fury making him reckless. When he finally stopped, at Roxas' pleading, they found themselves alone in the jungle with nothing but the two pack horses tied to their mounts. They backtracked, circling the area for nearly an hour, and found no one.

"Are you fucking kidding me?" Roxas asked, voice quiet in his growing fury.

"Now, Rox, you didn't have to come after me-"

"Shut the fuck up now, Axel." Axel's jaw clicked shut, swallowing audibly and nervously looking at his map. Roxas dismounted, walking to a stream not far from where they had stopped and completely submerging himself. He figured that this would at least stop his heat-induced misery, so he had more wits to deal with his 'brilliant' companion and the situation they'd gotten into. Axel was still looking rather nervous when Roxas returned, eyes shifting and hands tight around the map.

"You're, uh, gonna be even more uncomfortable wet, Rox." Very slowly, Roxas turned his head towards the other. Axel bit his lip, refused to meet his eyes or even look at him. The blond jumped back into the saddle, completely ignoring the other in his frustration. Axel, however, was just trying to rid his mind of the nipples and taut skin he could see through the blond's wet, white shirt. He bullied his body into compliance by sheer force of will, and refused to look at Roxas until his clothes had dried.

Axel was right, though. Roxas was even less happy in his wet clothes.

Within five hours - approximately two hours and thirty-four minutes after Roxas' clothes had completely dried, according to Axel's levels of confusion and uncomfortable squirming - the two of them had stumbled upon the ruins. Axel whooped, waving his hat around and boasting of his cleverness and jungle-finesse. Roxas rolled his eyes, his anger having fizzled out earlier and leaving him hungry.

They made camp in a clearing at the base of the ruins, laying back and watching the stars after eating and dealing with the horses. They almost couldn't sleep from the excitement of finally finding the god forsaken ruins, but they forced themselves into the tent, silent yet thrumming with energy.

Roxas was awoken by Axel, as per usual; but the blond was trying to figure out why it was still dark through his sleep-dampened senses. He was roughly dragged to his feet and a jagged knife edge was pressed against his throat before he actually woke up. Wide blue eyes caught the silhouette of a nearly naked man dragging him out of the tent behind Axel. Out of the tent and stepping into pools of firelight - brought by long staffs topped by silver lanterns, glinting and intricate - did nothing to hide the men who were wearing nothing but loin clothes and happened to be decidedly cut. Roxas had to lecture himself to remember that he was, indeed, in grave danger and should probably stop drooling, but in the dim light with their dark skin and the feathers and delicate jewelry they had draped across their skin-

"This is your fault," Roxas hissed, receiving a glare from the man holding the knife to his throat and a flabbergasted look from Axel.

"My fault? By what merit?" The disbelief in his voice waylaid the anger, but just barely.

"If you wouldn't have gotten pissy like you do and ran off from the fucking group-" Roxas was silenced by a low grunt and the slow press of the rough blade against his neck, causing him to swallow and deepen his glare. The men were talking fast, their voices neutral and betraying nothing. As they spoke, Roxas tensed, while Axel seemed to loosen the grimace from his face and relax his limbs.

The men jerked them into movement, pulling them and their mounts towards the tall, crumbling ruins, where they were shoved into a small building that seemed to be made for prisoners and left for the night, locked in. Once Roxas was sure they were gone, he turned to Axel almost violently.

"You little traitor, what the fuck were they saying?" Roxas whispered furiously, eyes hard in the dim light of the moon.

"Calm down, Rox, we're-"

"Don't tell me to fucking calm down." Roxas tone was flat and dangerous, face expressionless and eyes like chips of inlayed ice. Axel looked out of the tiny window, avoiding Roxas' eyes.

"We're going to be fine, Roxas. The dialect they're speaking is a little rougher than what I'm used to, but the gist of it is that they aren't going to hurt us."

"Alright, translator, so why the fuck were we dragged out of our sleep and forced into this little room?" Axel shrugged, pulling off his jacket and folding it up to use as a pillow.

"Axel, this is serious!" Roxas exclaimed, deflating completely.

"Yeah, it is. But there's nothing we can do from in here, and we seem to be safe enough, so I'm going to get a little sleep. We can deal with this in the morning." Axel explained, shutting his eyes and wiggling on the dirt floor, searching for a semblance of comfort.

"Ax, why are there even people here? I though you said they'd been wiped out!" Axel looked at him through one squinted eye before pulling his hat down over his face. Roxas stared at him out of disbelief for a moment, before exhaling in defeat and laying down on his side, reluctantly shutting his eyes.

To Roxas' dismay, they really were in no immediate danger. Axel had already been talking to the men by the time Roxas had woken up, managing to set up different accommodations for the two of them to share and getting information on the idol they were searching for.

"Most of the people were killed in the storm, only a hand full of them survived and this is what's been rebuilt over the years," Axel explained to him around a mouthful of mango. "They say they displeased the gods by offering too much tribute to the sacred idol itself, so in jealousy they raised nature up against them." Roxas raised an intrigued eyebrow, taking the mango from Axel's hand and slowly biting into it.

"Is that so?"

"No one from the tribe's been up to give tribute or even see the idol for some forty-five-odd years," Axel informed him slyly, stealing the fruit back and tearing a piece from it with his teeth.

"Not since the hurricanes," Roxas mused off-handedly, digging through a bag for their research. Axel grinned like a wolf as he watched Roxas' face spread into a genuine smile, eyes raking over maps and coordinates and scribbled notes on history pages.

"The thing is, though, we'll have to travel up there on our own. I doubt that anyone in this little tribe would be willing to take us up there, despite anything we could offer them." Roxas was already pulling a map out of the pile, making marks in pencil and measuring distances with a collapsable compass he'd made appear out of thin air.

"That's fine, Ax. That's more than fine. We know the general location of it, and now we've completely bypassed the complication of the locals noticing it missing and trying to keep it. Axel, this-"

"I know, kid," Axel said, voice low and quiet and tender, taking in Roxas' visage, eyes bright and face flushed in excitement. He dug one hand through blond hair, mussing it gently before withdrawing and walking off to talk to one of the men that accosted them the night before.

Roxas had frozen, hands clutching at already wrinkled papers and trying his hardest to steady his heartbeat, stop his legs from quaking, stem the rush of blood to his cheeks. He watched Axel walk off with his cocky swagger, shouting foreign, exotic syllables, expelling strange words from his pale throat like a charm that Roxas found impossibly alluring. He was already being hailed as a friend, as an equal among these people, and Roxas found himself aching with a destructive sort of desire to bury himself under Axel's skin until the red head could never find anything better to replace him with.

Once he noticed that he was openly staring, he shook himself and gave his full attention to the maps in front of him, trying to force his burning cheeks to a shade more acceptable to pass off on the humid, warm climate.

That night, once the sun had set and the stars and moon were glowing in the darkened sky, there was a feast. The ruins were lit with torches, throwing golden, flickering light into the deep cracks and crevices of the aged stone. In the center of the town, a fire was roaring in a ceremonial pit that had been carved into the ground, four meters across of scorched black stone and flames dancing nearly as expressively as the girls of the tribe. There was chatter and laughter and merriment, all of which Axel joined in on while Roxas sat back, self-conscious and not confidant enough to mingle with people he didn't share a language with; he shared nothing with them but Axel. Roxas sat, wondering if the feast was a coincidence or if it was being thrown for them, caught between dubious thoughts and unbearable self-flattery. Axel went back and forth all night, from the party to Roxas, bringing him fruit and meat and strong alcohol. The night passed in a blur of fire-lit bodies and gloriously bright stars and and smarting burn down Roxas' throat that spread into a comfortable warmth in his belly. Everything was winding down, people full of food and alcohol limping on feet weary from dancing, and Axel found Roxas sitting with his back against a tree, watching the festivities with a melancholy smile.

"Here you are, Rox!" Axel said, plopping down beside him and leaning against his shoulder.

"Here I am," Roxas agreed quietly, watching people slowly disperse as the sky got lighter and lighter. The blond's head was buzzing, and the skin where Axel was touching him tingled. Roxas turned his head toward the other, caught the shimmer of dim morning light glinting off the sweat in the hollow of Axel's throat, the sultry look of his gaze given by his half-lidded eyes. Desire and affection and love fizzed through him, igniting in his stomach like stars gone supernova, bright and burning. Roxas reached out to brush fingers along Axel's jaw, turned the red head's face toward his own and leaned forward, tasting something sweet on his breath and-

Axel pushed him away, hand shaking on Roxas' chest and eyes gone from half-sated to panicked.

"I don't like boys, Roxas." Axel said, voice dangerous and low, at odds with the trapped, nearly terrified look in his eyes.

"Yeah? Then why are you sitting here with me instead of with one of the many girls who were so desperate for your attention tonight?" Axel dropped his head back in exasperation, the good mood of the night leeching away, and Roxas could do nothing but watch it disappear into the dawn. He dared not scrabbled to pull them back; what was done was done, and it was his own doing.

"Why would I want to spend time with girls when I could spend time with-" he cut himself off, mouth falling slack with the words that nearly fell from his lips.

"Why would you want to be fucking girls instead of hanging out and doing nothing with me?" Roxas finished for him, chest tightening and a foreign lump swelling in his throat, threatening to close off his airway. Axel huffed, standing quickly and stalking off, fuming.

"Be honest with yourself, Axel," Roxas called out to him, hating himself for needing the last word. He sat, halfway to drunk and holding off tears, breath hitching and chest shaking and whispering self-deprecating insults to himself.

When Roxas finally collected himself enough to stand and go to bed, sun nearly peeking over the horizon, he walked in on Axel involved with two of the village girls. The girls squeaked, faces colouring in shame while Axel sneered and told him to get out, running large, milky hands over brown skin, not stopping even for a second, not looking Roxas in the eyes. And Axel, he had to justify why his slow thrusts sped up so fast when the blond walked through the door, why his orgasm hit him so much harder, so much early than normal.

Roxas sat at the edge of the jungle for the rest of the night, eyes drooping and sleepily watching the door, waiting for them to leave so he could apologize, so he could make things right and maybe catch a nap before the temperature made sleep impossible.

He finally saw the two girls ducking out of the doorway, giggling to each other and walking stiffly, which was enough to make Roxas feel physically ill. He padded into their room silently, looking at Axel's back turned to him and mood dropping even further. He curled up on his own mat, facing the wall and trying so hard to hold back the words he was dying to say, to shout at the red head until he was blue in the face. He lay there and fantasized about fighting with Axel until the man broke and gripped his waist and savagely licked into his mouth, biting and sucking and barely holding back moans. He clenched his own hipbones hard enough to bruise, trying so hard to imagine his hands were Axel's hands, and the only things stopping his frustrated tears were the teeth he dug into his lower lip and sheer force of will.

Roxas was awoken by a hand shoving at his shoulder, damp with sweat and confused. He squinted, recognizing the middle-aged woman from the tribe. She was muttering at him in her own language, moved her hands to his trousers and beginning to unbutton them. Roxas yelped, scrambling back to get away from her hands.

"Don't worry, Rox, they're just getting us dressed up. This is the second half of the celebration, apparently." Axel drawled from across the room, and Roxas looked over to see him bare-chested, wearing an embroidered loin cloth and ropes of gems and coloured stones around his neck. He didn't look angry, not anymore - just sated and smug about being groomed like a prince - but he wasn't looking at Roxas. Which was probably a good thing, because Roxas' mouth fell open and he gaped at Axel's ensemble. It was easily the least Roxas had ever seen him wear; he was barely covered, necklaces swinging around his neck and waist and hips, shimmering enticingly. Roxas was beginning to have a new reason for not wanting to drop trou.

Roxas was wrestled out of his clothes, bathed in warm water scented with flower petals, anointed in oils and draped in the same soft loin cloth and strands of glittering stones as Axel. Roxas was feeling apprehensive about the whole celebration as they placed crowns of wrought silver on their heads, intricate and shining. Roxas' breath caught in his chest as he examined the beads of one of the necklaces.

"Uh, Ax-"

"What, Roxas? I'm kind of busy," Axel snapped, leaning back while one of the women rubbed a spicy-smelling oil into the soles of his feet.

"I don't think this celebration is going to end well." Roxas said, eyes still focused on the beads, fingers flying across them as he dug through his mind for the meanings of the symbols engraved in them.

"What the hell are you talking about? You're being treated like a goddamn sultan and you're ungrateful?" Axel asked, voice loud and tone scathing.

"Hey, asshole. Look around for just a second. These people have only what they can harvest and scavenge. A huge feast? Showering us with gifts and treating us like gods? You're the fucking professional here, douche bag. Tell me what the Aztecs did after treating people like this," Roxas snarled, brow furrowed. Axel's face drained, pale and emotionless.

"Don't panic. They have to think that we don't know what's going on. Act like I've just pissed you off." Roxas' words were tinged with an anger he didn't feel, playing the part he designated himself so they could make a plan along the way.

"You're right. How couldn't I have seen this before?" Axel asked, frustrated and fists clenching.

"Fuck if I know, you jerk. You're the one who has the office and the cushy university career, not me. When dusk falls, they're going to take us up the mountain, up to the idol, and sacrifice us. We have until then to think of a plan, so get fucking thinking." Axel opened his mouth, shut it, and turned away. The women worked carefully, looking at each other with something akin to fear in their eyes.

Hours later, when the sun was sinking into the sky, the women left them full and pampered. Roxas' eyes flashed as he turned to Axel.

"Alright, listen the fuck up. They're going to be bringing other tribute with them to sacrifice, probably food and pottery and precious stones. They're probably going to pack it up on a horse or two and bring it up with us. What you need to do-"

"Oh, what I need to do, now?" Axel asked, sarcastic tone tinged with annoyance, but if it was from the situation at hand or the conversation from last night, Roxas didn't know.

"Yeah, you dick. I come up with the plans, you use your charm and good looks to complete them." Roxas paused, eyes flicked over Axel nervously, waiting for a negative reaction to his words. Nothing came.

"So, what we need to do is put some supplies in a canvas bag and stash that somewhere on the pack horses. They'll more than likely be using the saddlebags that we brought..."

Roxas explained his plan, in minute detail, three times. He explained it until Axel's eyes glazed over and he waved his hands in a rather dismissive fashion, which made Roxas grit his teeth though he said nothing. They sat, barely clothed and slightly uncomfortable from all of the jewelry, on soft mattresses, working over details and somewhere in all of the fuss, Axel seemed to forget about the previous night.

The sun was just beginning to set, the sky lit with gold and pink and orange when they were summoned. They stood, clinking from head to toe, with Roxas fighting down a violent blush and arranging the scrap of fabric around his hips. Axel strode out the door, tall and confident and looking like a prince of India but pale, beads glinting in the light of the dying sun.

They were met by a group of seven unfamiliar men. Even in the short time they had been with the tribe, they'd managed to see everyone, meet everyone, recognize their faces. These men, wearing headdresses of black feathers and gleaming black stones and seashells blackened in a fire, were unfamiliar. Roxas tried not to let his distress show on his face as Axel jumped into introducing himself, seemingly not taking anything amiss. The red head was answered with bare nods, expressions stone-like and refusing to speak.

They were leaving on foot, walking out of the village with strange men, their scant coverings all in black, to journey up a mountain and have their hearts cut out. It was a long walk, and Roxas was pretty sure he was going to be driven insane by the clanking of the bracelets around his ankles and wrists and forearms, the necklaces swinging around his body and catching on tree branches and doing their very best to trip him up.

The walk was mostly silent, other than the sounds of footfalls on underbrush on a path that was slightly overgrown. Axel tried, at the beginning, to get a conversation going, but he gave up early on and stuck with exchanging low whispers with Roxas every once in a while.

"So, what are we gonna-"

"Shut the fuck up, Axel," Roxas growled between clenched teeth, cutting him off before he said anything important. Axel's eyes widened and he moved away from the volatile blond, if only just a little.

"What's up your ass?" Axel asked, brows furrowing in a look that bordered concern and annoyance.

"Don't say anything. Suppose one of them speak English?" Roxas whispered again, quite as possible, and let Axel think about it for a moment. They continued walking in silence again.

Their path became steeper as they progressed in the dark, eyes looking down to keep from tripping on roots and other debris on the forest floor. Up and up they went, walking quickly in a silence so deep it was almost meditative, Roxas very nearly struggling to keep up to the strides of Axel's mile long legs.

He had to keep his eyes away from him, he had to, because Axel looked far too exotic, too regal, too godlike for Roxas to contain any thought he would have towards him. He wanted so badly to run his fingers along the beads looped around his chest, his waist, those fucking hips, widening ever so slightly from the hard muscles in his stomach. He wanted to touch and taste and learn that body, yearning while he begged his body not to react.

They climbed the mountain until the dark was so thick and pure that Roxas couldn't see anything save for the odd glimpse of a body lit by the stars, the edges of wet leaves catching the dim light. The moon was nowhere to be seen in the sky, eclipsed by the shadow of the earth so completely that not even an outline was visible in the sky - but that didn't surprise Roxas. Sacrifices, as it were, revolved around the cycle of the moon. And it had taken a full week for them to get to the-

Roxas cut his own thought off with panic, breath audibly speeding up and heart ricocheting through his chest.

'How are we going to get out, even if we do successfully pull this off and make it out of this alive? Were the people who led us out here trying to keep us away until now, so we could be sacrificed? Was it just them being paid off, or the entire city of Merida?' His chest was tight, there wasn't enough room for air in his lungs, he was panting and the little eyesight he had in the dark was going blurry-

Axel took his hand, loosely lacing their fingers together, stroking Roxas' thumb with his own, slow and comforting but gods above it burned, it left a line of fire against his skin and Roxas had to choke back a desperate sob. His thoughts ground to a stuttering halt, calming his heavy breathing and he was pretty sure the only things still functioning were his legs, still walking uphill, and his furiously pounding heart. Roxas, with his sweaty, nearly numb fingers, squeezed Axel's hand so hard he could feel the small bones grinding under his skin.

Roxas was almost reluctant to relax his grip, imagining Axel tearing his hand away, glaring at him through the dark and holding his arm to his side. Instead, Axel very slowly, almost reluctantly, pulled his hand away, fingertips brushing the pulse in his wrist and Roxas was very glad that his blush was hidden under the cover of darkness. They walked on, tension between them like sticky strings of honey, sweet and golden and warm.

Finally, almost abruptly, the slope came to a plateau. With the same almost suffocating silence, six of the men filed into a cave that was nearly hidden by the foliage, leaving Axel and Roxas outside with one lone man.

It would be easy, so easy, to leave now, to incapacitate their lone guard, the only one bereft of the black accessories. The problem lay with the pack horses, which had been brought into the cave behind them. There was no way to fetch their supplies without being seen, and it would be suicide going out into the jungle without them. So they stood, in silence, waiting for the preparations to be made.

They waited until the leaves covering the entrance were glowing, backlit by fire and swaying gently in the breeze. The pack horses were lead back out, nothing but the empty saddlebags on their backs, mouths flecked with foam and still panting at the heavy load they'd carried. Axel was fighting back a cringe, worrying about their canvas bags and where they could have been put, when one of the men took Roxas by the forearm and led him to the cave.

Roxas looked back at him, eyes wide and panicked and Axel had to force himself to stay put, biting his lip to keep from shouting. The moment the foliage swished over to cover the opening to the cave, Axel pounced on the guard. With a few of the sturdier strings of beads, Axel cut off the man's airflow, pulling the man back into him to stop him from making noise and alerting the others. Axel held tight until the man went limp, and then hurriedly stashed the body in the unforgiving jungle, 15 feet off the path.

Axel pulled the jewelry from his body, leaving himself with nothing but the loin cloth, desperately looking through the saddlebags and finding nothing but the cured leather insides. Slowly, quietly, trying to muffle the blood pumping hard through his veins and erase the look Roxas had given over his shoulder, Axel crouched by the cave opening and peeked through the leaves. He saw the bags, ten feet from the entrance, dropped as if on second thought on the edge of piles of tribute. Axel looked over at Roxas, soaked to the bone and tied to a stalagmite jutting from the floor, and noticed all of the backs turned to him. They were chanting, reaching out to touch Roxas' tanned skin with their fingertips, smearing something dark and no doubt smelly on his chest. He crept into the cave, moving slowly enough that he wouldn't attract too much attention and hiding behind small rock formations on the way. He nearly slipped in a puddle of water, but steadied himself and reached out to snag both bags by the straps. He lifted them, pulled them towards himself, cradled them to his chest as he made his retreat, just as slow and painful as before. His heart was beating hard, racing in his chest from fear and adrenaline, and the chanting was getting louder. He refused to look at Roxas as he exited the cave, in case he did something stupid, something outside of the plan.

Roxas did not like fire. This fear compounded upon itself as a ceremonial fire was lit in the hollowed-out bowl beneath his feet, so very hot, but not enough to set him alight, not yet. The flames grew steadily, licked up his legs, singeing his leg hairs and leaving his skin red, blisters forming under his skin. They added dry wood to the small fire, building it up and Roxas could hear the fire devouring it, hear the snapping and cracking of the wood going up in flames. The fire ate up the water like nothing, left his body surrounded by thin steam until all of the water had gone and it just burned.

The lukewarm water from earlier seemed like child's play, holding his face under until his lungs screamed, vomiting water onto the rocks after being let go. Roxas wished he was still there, half drowned and choking around his begging and pleading, rather than quietly whimpering and strung up atop a fire.

One of the men - Roxas supposed him to be the priest, seeing as he was doing the main chanting and order-giving while the others did the grunt work - drew a dagger as long as his forearm down Roxas' face, across his jaw, reaching across the fire to do his work one-handedly. Not cutting, not yet, but letting Roxas fully understand what was about to happen. Roxas forced his face into careful blankness, refused to let any of these men see how truly terrified he was. The priest pressed the dagger in harder.

The dagger bit into his chest in small gashes, like tiny lovers' kisses, and his skin seemed too shocked to bleed, just a pink line in his flesh before the blood began to well up and slide down his skin. The chanting started up again, and Roxas could do nothing but close his eyes, a flimsy defense against the scene unfolding around him, claiming him.

Axel shed his last piece of clothing, if it could be called that, and tugged his own clothing out. He dressed himself hastily, buttoning his shirt and shoving the bottoms of his trousers into his boots. Placing the bags in a hidden-yet-accessible area, nearly completely hidden by the foliage, Axel took up his whip and his gun, took a long, deep breath, and stormed into the cave.

He shot two of the men before any of them had time to react, too deep in the ritual to do anything but gape. A third man went down once they started towards him, blood blooming on his bare chest, fingers running through it in disbelief. His whip shot out with a crack, wrapping around the throat of the man closest to him, and Axel tugged violently, bringing the man to his knees and feeling his flesh give around the unforgiving leather.

Axel slammed the butt of his pistol into the fifth man's temple as he pulled harder at the whip, watching the other's face turn purple as he collapsed in an unconscious heap. He snapped his whip back, looking for the final man, saw him standing over by Roxas.

Roxas. Brilliant, irate, gorgeous Roxas, being slowly cut into with a large, jagged dagger. Blood dripped down over the knife, over skin like cream and honey, sizzling in the fire and splashing on the floor, among the loose beads cut from his body. His eyes were shut tight against the pain, chest heaving and breath coming out of his mouth in stuttered gasps, trying so desperately not to scream.

Axel saw red, losing every ounce of the control he'd so carefully constructed. His whip snapped, biting into the man's wrist and causing him to yelp and then snarl, dagger thrown to the side. He moved for the dagger, scrabbling on the floor to pick it up with fingers numb from the crack of the whip. Axel smirked, pulled back the hammer, aiming carefully before the man could run back in front of Roxas-

The gun went off, and it seemed so much louder than before, without the chanting, in a room full of dead or otherwise incapacitated men. Axel watched him fall, dagger slipping out of his hand, before running to Roxas. He pushed the heavy stone basin of water over, letting it destroy the fire beneath the blond. Roxas' breath was short, falling on Axel's face like butterfly kisses as he untied him, holding him up against the heated rock so that he didn't fall forward.

"Rox, Roxas, are you okay, Rox, can you walk?" Axel's questions came pouring out of his mouth, his heart still a nervous, angry flutter in his chest as he held Roxas up by his sides. His skin was tender from the flames, from the myriad of shallow incisions crisscrossing along his chest like a gruesome mosaic.

"It-it's hot, Ax," he whispered, let Axel gently pick him up and away from the hot stone. Pale hands ran cautiously over his torso, checking the shallow cuts. They were small, just enough to hurt and bleed, they probably wouldn't even scar. Roxas sucked in air with pained gasps, blinking tears out of blue eyes, the droplets catching on his lashes and making Axel's heart beat faster. Roxas looked up at him, eyes seeming even brighter for the tears, and his eyes widened.

"Axel!" Roxas shout was hoarse as Axel whirled around and the dagger caught in the arm of his leather jacket, biting down past it and into his forearm. The priest's breath was labored, he choked out words that Axel stiffened at, shoving the man back and aiming his gun for a more fatal wound. His eyes were wild as he shouted, and Roxas recognized the same words being said, again and again. Axel pressed a booted foot to the man's chest, dug his heel into the gunshot wound and making the man howl in pain.

"Die, you sick fuck," Axel said, voice rough with anger and hatred, pulling back the hammer on his gun and squeezing the trigger.

The gun clicked. Axel's mouth dropped in surprise, pulling the trigger again to be met with the same click. The priest laughed lowly, said something to Axel that had him backing up, pulling Roxas with him.

"Axel, Ax, what's wrong? What did he say?" Roxas asked, panic beginning to twist his stomach into knots as he looked at Axel's near-white face.

"Others are coming, Rox, there's no time, we have to go."

"No." Axel doubled back, looking at Roxas with a furrow in his brow. "After all of this shit, I refuse to leave without that god forsaken idol." Axel...had completely forgotten about that, actually. In his fright over Roxas, he'd ignored everything they'd set out to do. Forgetting his target in favor of someone's well being was not something Axel did.

At the back of the cave, not quite twenty feet away, was a altar lit with firelight and surrounded by glazed pottery and other opulent objects. Axel stepped towards the priest, grinning as if he already knew their fate, and slammed his head into the stone floor, knocking him unconscious. Axel hurried to the altar, looking carefully at the intricate patterns the stone was carved with. He noticed one, deeper and wider than the others, and followed it down the side of the altar, across the floor, up the wall of the cave.

"Roxas, get out of the cave. I'm pretty sure this thing is booby-trapped, and I don't want you in here if the roof collapses." With an affronted huff, Roxas limped to the entrance to the cave, standing at the opening with an eyebrow arched high.

"If something happens I can jump," Roxas said with an air of finality, and Axel looked up to the ceiling in frustration before going back to the task at hand. He picked up a bowl full of fruit, weighed it in his hand and looked back at the statue. After a few moments, he'd gauged the weight to what he thought was the right amount. He looked back one more time - Roxas standing with his arms folded over his chest, carefully not pressing down too hard, the three unconscious men starting to stir. As carefully as he could without wasting time, Axel switched the bowl for the idol, rolling everything into place. For a moment, he let a grin of triumph cross his face, stepping back - only to find the floor beginning to crumble beneath his feet. With the idol tucked into the crook of his elbow, he snapped his whip out and wrapped it around a stalactite, swinging across the quickly disintegrating floor and running the last few steps to the doorway, pulling a shocked Roxas along with him.

They stumbled out of the cave, Axel trying to hold Roxas up as he crouched to sling both of their bags over his shoulders as the ground shook and the sound of cracking rock filled the air. They ran down the path they came, tripping and foundering in the near darkness, but not caring as they got as far away as possible. The sound and the rumbling of the ground had stopped, but they continued to run down the steep mountain. Once the slope they ran down became less steep, Axel tried to tug Roxas off the path, into the jungle to keep from being found by the people that were coming, but Roxas pulled his arm back.

"Rox, there's no way they won't know we have this thing now. We have to get off the path and-"

"What would be the point of that? Even with the maps, Ax, we'd probably get lost and die in there," Roxas said, whispering but still commanding and sharp. "I just...let's just go in there for a minute, I need to rest." Axel nodded, finding themselves somewhere to hide in the dense jungle where they wouldn't be in danger of losing the path. Once positioned, Axel took a catalogue of Roxas' injuries. The cuts weren't a problem, unless they got infected; his skin was tender and red and water blisters were already forming, but there wasn't going to be any other ramifications after the pain wore off. Roxas' breath was still slightly hitched and short, but Axel blamed the events of the night and moved on. He checked the bottoms of his feet, which had got the brunt of the burn, and put his head in his hands.

"What's wrong?" Roxas asked, quiet but still alarmed.

"This is my fault. This is all my fault, I dragged you into this, I never listen -"

"Axel."

"- and now you're hurt and we're probably going to be killed by cannibalistic barbarians -"

"Axel."

"- I fucking never should have taken you here, I knew the risks and I completely ignored them in favor of having a -"

"Axel!" Roxas' voice was still a whisper, but it was urgent enough to make him pay attention, looking up at him and noticing that it was slowly getting brighter. Not enough to pick out small details, like the way Roxas' eyes were shining and the stubborn edge of his jaw, but brighter nonetheless. The night was breaking.

Roxas took one of Axel's hands in his own, fingers rubbing softly into his skin.

"Axel, I wanted to come here. Don't give me some cock-and-bull about being selfish by asking me, because this is probably one of the best things I've done in...ever, really. So don't even for a minute regret bringing me here -" Whatever Roxas was trying to say, Axel would never know, because he chose that moment to pull his hand from Roxas', cup the blond's face, and kiss him.

Roxas was shocked into stillness - at least until Axel started to pull away, limbs stiffening. Roxas pulled him back by his shoulders, pressed his mouth into the red head's, let out a breath that could have been a sob and clenched his fingers into Axel's shirt. Axel let out a tiny sound, half-caught in his throat, before gathering the blond in his arms, falling back to sit Indian-style and pull Roxas into his lap in the same motion. Roxas wrapped his legs around Axel's waist, caught his fingers in obnoxiously red hair, pressed himself as close as he could without hurting himself further. The forest swallowed the sounds of wet lips meeting and parting, the heavy breathing, the breathy moans that barely made it out into the open air, just pressed into the other's skin as Axel, so very hesitantly, licked into Roxas mouth.

Axel grazed Roxas' sides with his fingertips as Roxas squirmed in his lap and wanted, wanted so badly despite the constant burn of his fire-kissed skin -

They froze as they heard a loud snap in the near distance, very low muttering, movement. Agonizingly slow, Axel and Roxas disentangled themselves, Axel gently placing Roxas in the hollow at the base of the tree before following, curling himself around the blond protectively and letting the dense bush fall over them, covering them from the searching eyes.

They were still and silent as the grave, hidden from the eyes of their hunters. Their quiet breaths mingled together, arms tight around each other, as they heard the people approach, heard them rustling in the jungle and move forward. Axel bumped his forehead against Roxas', rubbed his nose against the other's, pressed their lips together in something that wasn't quite a kiss. They couldn't risk kissing, couldn't risk the noise - but this was silent, it was comforting.

Roxas' heart was beating so very hard under Axel's hand, and the red head wondered how they couldn't have heard it, how he couldn't hear it. His stomach twisted in excitement and apprehension and fear, and they silently lay there in the darkness, pressed against each other until the near-silent sounds of movement were long gone.

"Rox, I know you're hurt, but we have to keep going," Axel murmured, pulling away and not meeting the blond's eyes. Roxas nodded, slowly getting to his feet, wincing all the way. Axel held Roxas' canvas bag out to him, which the other took gratefully, pulling his clothing out and putting them on, placing the beads and the loin cloth in the bag. The pain of putting his boots on nearly made him vomit, but Axel was there to help and shy away from touching the blond's bare skin like a twelve year old. It made Roxas smile.

Once his boots were securely fastened to his feet, he felt infinitely better. They rubbed against the sensitive burn, but it felt shades better than stepping on twigs and rocks and whatever else littered the ground. Before they could move too far, Roxas ran his fingers down Axel's jaw, felt him shudder before pressing his face into Roxas' palm.

"Fuck, I-uh, I don't-"

"Don't worry about it now. There's time for that later," Roxas whispered, cutting off Axel's start-and-stop thoughts. Roxas' hands were shaking, and Axel was pretty sure that it wasn't from the pain. Axel covered Roxas' hand with his own, stroked his fingers down the gentle curve of his back and pressed his palm against the base of his spine to steady him. Roxas gripped Axel's forearm, fingers digging in, burying his face into the crook of Axel's neck and breathing in.

"We should go," Axel whispered, not trusting his voice enough to speak louder. Roxas just nodded, pressed closer, kissed the side of Axel's neck before slowly pulling away.

"You would throw this shit on me while we're in the middle of escaping hostile territory, you douche bag," he murmured, running his hands down Axel's chest and then removing himself completely.

"I'm sorry. I just...You could've died, Rox," Axel said, reaching out to touch Roxas' face and his expression falling when Roxas pulled away farther, looking warily up through dark blond lashes.

"Yeah. Yeah, Axel." Roxas turned away, shouldering his bag as gingerly as possible and making his way back through the jungle, off to the trail they would take back to the village.

Axel and Roxas walked fast, not wanting to run because of the noise they'd make, moving off into the jungle once again when they got close enough to be spotted by the villagers. The sun was beginning to rise, and when Roxas looked back, Axel looked so beautiful, bathed in golden light that filtered through the thick greenery, looking at him with worried, helpless, longing eyes.

'Does he really want me? Was tonight a catalyst, something that brought his feelings out? Or did it create feelings that I prodded on the night of the festival?' Roxas hated that he was so torn, hated that he was too scared to ask. He wanted to fold himself into Axel's arms, wanted to rock against him and breathe into his mouth and tangle his fingers into knotted hair. He wanted to drown in Axel, he almost couldn't bring himself to care that they were being hunted by at least one tribe that they'd stolen an important artifact from. Everything on him hurt, and all he wanted was to take comfort in the one person he'd wanted for the better part of his adult life. And now he didn't even know if he could trust in Axel's feelings.

Very quietly, very carefully, they snuck around the village, sneaking through the jungle and watching for signs of human movement, both in the trees and in the village. They were just leaving the tribe behind when they could hear the people waking up, hear the commotion, the anger and fright in their foreign tongue.

"Fuck, fuck, we have to go," Roxas whispered, grabbing Axel's hand and pulling hard.

"Put your hair up under your hat, you're like a fucking beacon in the dark with it," Roxas said, and Axel dropped his hand, tucking his hair up as they ran and reaching forward to lace his finger's with Roxas' and grip hard. They ran as fast as they could afford, making as little noise as their speed would allow.

"We have to make it to the river, once we get there we can't get lost in the jungle. The river's plotted on the map, it'll bring us right back to Merida, probably only a three day trip on foot," Roxas huffed in between gasps for breath, racing along despite the pain.

"Rox, as soon as we cross the river we'll be safe. They haven't made the sacrifice, they'll be too superstitious to cross running water. We'll be safe, we can rest, just get us to the river," Axel said, chest heaving with exertion from being awake and on the run for the better part of a day.

They doubled their efforts, ignoring the distant shouting, the cacophony they were making. They ran, sprinting, leaping over fallen trees and roots, ducking under low hanging branches that threatened to slap their limbs and faces. They could hear the villagers catching up to them - they knew the terrain much better than Axel and Roxas, and they were running with anger nipping their ankles.

The trees finally started thinning as they heard the loud rushing of water, making it easier to move, letting them run faster, until they came to a short but steep decline and-

"Fuckin'...river," Axel breathed, grabbing both bags and holding them high over his head as they splashed through the shallows, wading into the rough current that brought them closer and closer to Merida, to safety.

"Ax, I can't...fuck, I can't swim...with these goddamn...boots on!" Roxas forced out between hard breaths and mouthfuls of water.

"It's fine, Rox, you're fine, just hold the bags above the water, I'll get you to the shore, Rox," Axel said over the rushing water, over the blood pumping in their ears, over the weighted gasps of air in and out of their lungs. The moment Roxas took the bags from his hands, blond hair starting to sink under the surface, Axel wrapped an arm securely around Roxas' waist and tugged him up, holding him against his own body to ensure he stayed above the water.

Axel's long legs sliced through the water, getting them closer and closer to the shore. Finally, they were stumbling over the rocks, wet clothes weighing them down as they tripped up the shore and back into the jungle. The shouts of the villagers cut through the warm, humid air, but when Axel looked over his shoulder, they were half a mile downstream and made no attempt to cross the river.

They tottered through the undergrowth, still limbs trembling and lungs drawing in mouthfuls of oxygen, until they couldn't see the tribesmen on the shore, until the echoing of their shouts were taken with the wind. They stumbled, waterlogged and absolutely exhausted, until they were far enough away that they felt safe.

"Ax, Ax, fucking god, we made it, we-" Roxas' legs buckled, pulling Axel down with him into the moss on the ground. Axel's hands immediately went to Roxas' chest, making sure he was okay, that his breathing was regular, if a little fast, checking for broken ribs and lacerations.

Axel cupped his face, pressed his lips against Roxas' mouth desperately, moaning when he felt Roxas' fingers clutch at his shoulders. He shuffled up Roxas' body, arched himself over him and framed his head with his forearms, ignoring the dull burn as he felt the scab on his arm crack and bleed into his jacket.

He curled himself around Roxas' body, protecting, hiding, whimpers falling from his throat like snow, soft and breakable. He held Roxas like he was something precious, hands moving under his wet clothing and worshipping like Roxas' wildest dreams, something he'd never thought he'd have.

"Axel, I-" Axel cut him off with a soft press of his lips, the smallest taste of a wet tongue slipping into Roxas' mouth, before he broke away. Carefully, even though his legs were shaking so hard he could barely move, he lifted Roxas from the ground, placed him on the springy moss by a fallen tree. He folded his leather jacket up, placed it under the blond's head, and went to work rigging up large, leafy branches to hide them from sight in case someone was brave enough to cross the river.

He pulled Roxas' boots off, sat him up and slid his wet clothing from his limbs.

"Ax, what-" Axel shushed him, ran fingers through his damp, tangled hair and pressed their foreheads together.

"It's okay, Rox, I'm just checking to make sure your injuries are fine," Axel whispered, throat sore from the hours of running. Roxas nodded, eyelids fluttering, flickering eyelashes hiding exhausted blue eyes.

Axel brushed hard, scabbed cuts with butterfly light fingertips. A few of the cuts had reopened, blood diluted with the river water on his body, but they looked like they were healing fine regardless. The blisters on his legs and feet had come through the skin, a few had burst in the escape, and his skin was chapped and peeling but pink with life, not blackened by the flames.

Axel let their clothes dry on a low hanging branch, wrapping the injured, nearly unconscious man in a rough wool blanket from one of the miraculously dry canvas bags and laying him down to get some sleep. He kept watch over the sleeping blond, leaning up against the rough, damp bark of the tree wearing nothing but damp underwear and trying to untwist his insides.

Roxas was beautiful, laying there with the shadows of the leaves dancing across his face, pink mouth slightly open, breath deep and even. He could almost pass for a girl, if not for the fine line of stubble along his jaw, his collar bone, the breadth of his shoulders. Under the grey and dyed red and green and blue of the blanket, his strong chest, tight stomach and buttocks, the veins visible in his forearms and hands. There was nothing feminine about his body, despite how short he was, how pretty his eyes and skin were.

Axel didn't know what was happening. He didn't understand the way his body reacted, the way his chest tightened and heat pooled beneath his navel. He couldn't stop looking at him now, not since he slowly started noticing him in his classes, sitting in the front row with those intelligent eyes so intent on him, desire drowned out by rapt attention. He thought he was going to explode when it was him walking into his office that day, though he had wished and wished until he'd fallen asleep the night before. He'd waited and waited to make his move, played stupid and fought it even when he'd wanted nothing but to give in - even now his body craved Roxas, and yet pulled his guts into knots and made his body convulse and cramp, leaving him doubled over with twinned desire and revulsion.

He shouldn't want a man. He'd had so many women, it was obvious he liked women; and yet at the same time, he didn't listen to them, didn't enjoy their company, found himself only able to be in their presence if he was buried inside them. Roxas, though, he was different. He was brilliant, he didn't apologize for himself or his beliefs or his ideas. Axel wanted to press into him, hold his face in pale hands and worship his body, unlike the fast and dirty couplings he was used to - and in the afterglow, he wanted to hold him and tease him and whisper into his temple. He wanted to mix business and pleasure - wanted Roxas to go with him on quests to offer his opinion and smack him upside the head when he was doing something ridiculous and after the long day to warm his bed and tuck his head under Axel's chin. He was sure he was falling into uncharted, dangerous territory, and he didn't know how to deal with it.

He looked over at the damp clothes, looked at Roxas squirming in discomfort in the blanket. Axel tugged at his hair, stretched out tired muscles, and slid into the folded blanket beside Roxas, pillowed the blond's head on his arm and pulled Roxas' nearly naked body against his own. The blond moved in his sleep, still-damp skin rubbing across his own, until he'd settled comfortably against Axel. The red head watched Roxas through half lidded eyes, let himself be lulled to sleep by the the steady push and pull of air in his lungs.

Roxas woke with his arms around Axel's waist and his head on his chest, squinting into the light that filtered through the leaves. The blanket scratched at his legs, irritated the burns and blisters across his body, and he was sweating from the heat in the air and from Axel's body and the blanket wrapped around them.

"Ax, wake up. We need to go, Ax," Roxas said, voice low and rough from sleep. Axel mumbled in his sleep, his arms tightening around his waist.

"Axel, this isn't a vacation. We're laying on the ground in the jungle, we're three days away from civilization, and I'm getting hungry. Wake the fuck up," Roxas said, voice louder and tone agitated. Roxas stood, flinging the blankets away and limping on sore, scorched feet.

Axel opened his eyes, rubbing a hand across his sweaty torso and sitting up, watching Roxas yank on his trousers and slide his arms into dirty sleeves. He hesitated when he got to his socks, and Axel got up off the ground, side stepped the foliage and walked towards him.

"Let me help, Rox," he murmured, and his voice tugged at Roxas' belly, making the heat inside him bubble up. Gently, oh so gently, Axel pulled his socks up his feet, placed his feet in the boots and laced them tight enough that the rubbing would be minimal.

And Roxas just stared down at the mostly naked man on his knees in front of him, fought the urge to catch his head in his hands and lead him up his body, kiss him breathless and tear off the clothes he'd just put on and-

Axel was getting up, brushing the dirt from his shins and tugging his own trousers on, dressing himself in a way that Roxas was sure should have been illegal, the way his muscles worked beneath pale skin.

"All right," Axel said as he placed the hat on his head, "where to, boss?"

Roxas pulled out maps, set their course straight for Merida. They walked, and walked, and sometimes talked, but they kept that to a minimum to conserve energy (Roxas convinced himself of this, trying to ignore the fact that everything felt very fragile and unreal. Axel had kissed him. Axel had kissed him, on two different occasions, and Roxas didn't really know what to do when his wildest dreams were handing themselves to him on a silver platter). They came across trees with branches heavy with ripe fruit, ate until they felt like sleeping, and carried on through the night. Roxas kept a close eye on the compass, keeping them on the same track to the last degree.

In the blackness of the night, moon barely a sliver in the sky, they walked. They walked as the sun started to crest the horizon, in complete silence, Roxas refusing to look at Axel because he knew that he would lose every ounce of self control he'd ever had and kiss him until the sun set again. Roxas ignored the sharp, burning pain in his feet, the deeper twinge in his muscles, the fatigue that almost made him dizzy.

"Rox, there's some more fruit over here, come eat something." Roxas was almost pathetically grateful at the excuse to sit, and he chewed slowly.

"So we're never going to talk about this, are we?" Axel asked around his mouthful, leaning back against a tree.

"What's there to talk about?" Roxas asked, avoiding his stare. He could almost hear the red head rolling his eyes.

"Roxas. We kissed. Well, I guess I kissed you at first, but-"

"Yeah, I was in danger, I was hurt, we kissed in the heat of the moment. No big deal, it's not like I'm going to sit around pining over you," Roxas scoffed, arms folded.

"Roxas." Axel whispered his name like a litany, an invocation, and Roxas looked up. Malachite eyes caught his own, pulled him in and kept him in place. Axel moved forward, towards him, and Roxas could do nothing but stare at eyes lit with desire and confusion and trust and maybe just a little self-deprecation.

"Rox," he whispered again, breath hot against his mouth. Shaky hands, unsure hands, touched his collarbone, clung to the fabric there and held on tight. Roxas slowly moved in, drew a hand across the contour of Axel's jaw, and-

They moved together, meeting each other in the press of lips and Roxas' chest tightened so hard that he had to cling to Axel's shoulders, making sure that everything was real, that he wasn't dreaming. Roxas' whole body was trembling, heating up, and he pressed his chest against Axel's as the red head slid his tongue between Roxas' open lips and sighed. Roxas ran his tongue along Axel's, behind his teeth and over the roof of his mouth and Axel shuffled closer, bent his head farther down to keep the contact. Roxas pushed Axel back, breaking the kiss to press him into the forest floor, laying himself across Axel's body and the red head wrapped one arm securely around his waist, guiding his chin with the other hand to press their lips together again. Roxas bit the corner of Axel's mouth, licked along his top lip before slipping his tongue back inside. Slow, hot kisses, with Axel pinned beneath Roxas' body, being pressed into the rich soil and springy ferns. Axel broke the kiss, moving to kiss his throat and jaw, while Roxas tensed and shuddered above him.

"Ax, we shoud - oh, god - we should go, we need to get back, we're going to die out here," Roxas said, choking back whimpers with his fingers clenched in Axel's hair.

"Mm, you're right," Axel murmured against his skin, continuing to press his mouth and tongue against his flesh until Roxas actually took initiative and stood, breaking away and shivering from the loss.

"We don't have energy to waste on this, though I promise you that this is not the end. We have unfinished business, Sinclair," Roxas said, brushing his knees off and wandering away, trying to disguise his limp from walking on traumatized feet all night. Axel sat up, eyebrow raised at Roxas' disappearance, when he heard the boy call out to him.

"Bring the packs, I found somewhere we can sleep," Roxas said, voice drifting through the foliage and settling around Axel's head, buzzing pleasantly. Axel stood, brushing his fingers over tingling lips and loading himself up, walking in the direction of Roxas' voice.

They set up 'camp', which is to say that Axel rigged up a series of branches to shield them from the sunlight trickling through the leaves and anyone or thing that was passing by. They stripped to their under garments, each trying desperately not to look at the other for fear that looking would lead to touching, which would lead to something that was definitely not resting and conserving their energy.

They curled up together on the forest floor, wrapped in an itchy woolen blanket, and fell asleep.

The next two days were similar stories of 'walk, find food, walk, find water, walk, rest, walk', and they were blessedly accident-free. They came to Merida on the third day, per Roxas' prediction.

They sat out in the jungle until night truly fell, sneaking into the city under a cover of darkness and long shadows cast by lit windows. They went to the opposite side of the city, bought a single room in a nice looking hotel, where the manager told them to go down to the wharf by four in the morning if they were looking to get back to Mexico City. There were ships going back and forth usually once every couple of days, and there was probably one leaving in the morning that, for the right price, would take them along and the crew would bring them to Mexico City with the rest of the cargo.

They slept fitfully, tossing and turning in their shared bed from the heat and fried nerves and the fact that they wanted nothing more than to crawl into each others skin but couldn't risk it, not this close to freedom. The stumbled down to the wharf in the half light of the morning, exhausted. They had the idol tucked in the very bottom of their pack, and Axel paid their voyage with almost all of the money they had left.

"Don't worry, Rox, as soon as we're in Mexico City we can get to a bank and I can pay for our air flight." The trip across the Gulf of Mexico didn't treat Roxas any better than the previous time, but Axel was rubbing his back and pulling his hair out of his face while laughing instead of just sitting back and giggling himself into stupidity.

When the crammed Jeep they were packed in pulled up to the outer edge of Mexico City, Roxas could have cried with relief. Axel could feel him shaking, the last week of desperately running for his life taking it's toll.

The rest of the day spun out in front of them, their exhaustion taking over and letting them run on autopilot. It wasn't until they were on the air plane, destined for home, that they finally let themselves relax enough to sleep, Roxas' head pillowed on Axel's shoulder.

~x~

Roxas trekked across campus, shifting his heavy, book-laden bag and grumbling to himself about his most recently escaped class. Wasn't it enough that he was in graduate studies, that he spent a good half of his summer traveling and running for his life? No, he had to take lectures with professors that were monotone enough to make him want to smash his head against a wall, who made interesting material as dry as a bone in the desert, and who assigned 300 pages of reading a week. He missed being an undergrad. He missed Axel's classes.

Roxas stomped up to the office building, punching the call button for the elevator and waiting with a huff. He slammed into the elevator, thumbed the eighth floor button, and then flung himself out through the doors in his fury. He didn't even bother knocking on the closed door, just barged into the room, throwing his bag down in disgust, and sitting down in the occupied chair.

"Uh, what's up, Rox?" Axel asked, pushing his glasses up his nose, eyes wide in confusion and very faint fear.

"Fuck you." Axel pondered his answer for a moment before sliding his arm around Roxas, hips, pulling him further into his lap and resting his head on the prickly blond's shoulder.

"What's wrong, Rox?" He asked, prepared to wince back at the answer.

"Fucking Professor Wyndam-Pryce." At this Axel had to fight back a laugh, even if it was to save himself from excruciating torture.

"Mm, what's he done now, baby?" Axel asked, nuzzling into his neck and tasting the skin there.

"We're doing Minoan Greece, and the fucker's talking about how wondrous Arthur Evans is for the restoration of the Palace at Knossos. It's like he talks out of his ass, you should hear him! Oh, yeah, good fucking job, Evans, why don't you rebuild the palace with fucking concrete and steel beams right over top of the ruins? Yeah, that sounds like a perfect idea, you absolute wing nut." Axel resolutely did not laugh at Roxas' tirade; instead, he busied himself with kissing and licking and biting the skin at his neck. He moved up as Roxas fell further into his rant, licking at his earlobe and nibbling the sensitive skin in the hollow behind his ear, moved down his jaw until he could suck Roxas' lower lip into his mouth.

"Do you mind?" Roxas asked, stopping mid-rant to look down his nose at Axel with an annoyed sort of tenderness.

"Not at all," Axel murmured, reaching up just a bit and claiming Roxas' lips. Roxas' objections were muffled and decidedly halfhearted before he was slipping his tongue into Axel's mouth and turning in his lap, situating himself so that he was straddling the professor's hips and rolling his own. Axel groaned, hands gripping Roxas' waist.

"Is-is the door locked?" Axel gasped between kisses and the pressure at his groin, fingers tightening in Roxas' shirt.

"Have I ever come here and not locked the door?" Roxas countered, biting at his neck and yanking roughly at his tie, "Now take your clothes off, we have some business to take care of." Roxas undressed with a single-mindedness that was almost frightening, pulling at Axel's tweed slacks when he didn't go fast enough for the blond. Axel started to pull him back into his lap, cock jutting out from his body, when Roxas shook his head and nodded to the cluttered desk.

"Rox, there's breakable shit on there," Axel said, exasperated from the work Roxas would have him do to clean off the desk and the heat and need building up in the pit of his abdomen. Roxas took his notes and stacked them on a filing cabinet, moving the small lamp to the floor and started moving small, fossilized animal skulls. Axel took ancient coins and occult objects and Phi figurines from Greece, placing them in shelves as gently as he could with a throbbing cock and a fiery blond in the same space. Roxas pulled himself up, spread across the desk and looking up at Axel through thick, dark lashes; his eyes were alight with mischievousness and amusement, and slowly stroking his own length, and Axel growled at him.

"You little tease," he mumbled, grasping in the bottom drawer of his desk for the ever-present pot of lotion.

"Tease?" Roxas asked, faux innocence practically dripping from his voice, "Who's teasing?" He sat up, reaching forward and pressing fingers against he head of Axel's member, dark and twitching, and Axel very nearly moaned out loud. He dipped two fingers into the lotion and - after a quick adjustment on Roxas' part, accompanied by a knowing grin and a shrug - pressed one into Roxas, leaning in and kissing his mouth.

Axel prepped him slowly, teasing him and rubbing fingers into his prostate, making the blond shake and curse. He pressed his own cock against Roxas' thigh, rocking his hips and groaning at the friction before Roxas grabbed the head and pressed it against himself, growling.

"Fucking cock tease, put it in me," he snarled, red-faced from arousal. Axel chuckled, kissing his mouth and biting his bottom lip.

"Patience, oh irritable one," he murmured into his mouth, slicking himself with the lotion and grinning. "You're fucking gorgeous like this." Roxas, spread out on the desk and bucking his hips, trying to draw Axel in, scowled.

"And you're a dick. It's go time, c'mon." Axel smiled, kissing Roxas softly as he pressed in slowly, Roxas whimpering beneath him and rolling his hips.

"Come on, asshole, stick it in me, I'm pissed and I need a little decompression time," Roxas grumbled, biting Axel's collarbone hard and gripping his hips, pulling forward.

"Aggressive, Rox. That must have been some class," Axel said, sheathing himself and listening to Roxas' relieved groans. Roxas reached around his neck, clinging and panting against his skin.

"God, it was just so-so frustrating, Ax...you-you have to go-ah-faster, Ax," Roxas said, forcing it out between heaving breath and tiny cries pulled from his throat. Axel complied, speeding his thrusts and pulling at Roxas' pulsing length. He gripped one of Roxas' thighs, pulling it over his shoulder and angling his thrusts to slam into his prostate, making Roxas cry out and curl into Axel's body. Roxas pulled Axel down to him, kissing him, anger fizzling out in favor of arousal.

They moved together frantically, goaded by Roxas' need, stifling cries and moans with each other's lips. They teased each other, chuckling low and exchanging wet, open mouthed kisses and cannibalizing the other's moans, swallowing them down, muffling them.

Axel came first, biting down on Roxas' shoulder to keep the long groan in and resigning himself to the teasing that would no doubt come later. He pumped himself though it, fisting Roxas cock fast and hard and bringing him to orgasm not a minute later. He pulled out of Roxas, who hummed in sated contentment and pulled him down by his hair, kissing his lips tenderly.

"Mm, don't you have a class right away, Professor?" Roxas asked, amusement thick in his voice and chuckling lowly as Axel whipped his head to look at the clock hung on the wall.

"Jesus fucking Christ," he swore, making Roxas laugh his low, sex-rough chuckle and smirk at the man rushing around the room. Roxas wiped his stomach with a tissue from a box on the edge of a reachable shelf, cleaning himself up as thoroughly as possible without taking a shower. Axel threw his boxer briefs at him, nearly hitting him in the face with him.

"You are an incorrigible, terrible person, Roxas," Axel growled, glaring as he tugged his trousers up, over his thighs and hips. Roxas just grinned, not even feigning innocence.

"You did this on purpose, you dick, and I'm going to get you back for it." Roxas' grin widened, eyebrow raising as Axel viciously tucked his undershirt into his slacks.

"I look forward to it, baby," he said, voice husky and eyes half lidded, slowly pulling his shorts up and arching his hips to pull them on fully, one foot braced on the desk and making Axel blush violently, stopping to stare. He shook his head, making Roxas laugh again, yanking his shirt on and concentrating on keeping the buttons straight. A crookedly buttoned shirt was the easiest way to spot a quickie before class, and he did not need to make a laughingstock of himself. Or the hurt and jealous glares he'd receive from the female population in the class. No, he didn't want that at all. Axel flipped through notes, shoved them in his briefcase and snapping it shut.

He threw his keys at the blond lounging on his desk, pulling his hair back and desperately trying to make himself look presentable. He straightened his tweed suit out, slightly wrinkled from being cast on the floor, rubbed a greasy smudge from the lens of his glasses, checked to make sure his tattoos were well and covered.

"Lock the door, brat. I'll see you at home," Axel said quietly, shutting the door behind him after taking a final, lingering look. Roxas, still stretched out on Axel's messy desk in nothing but his shorts, smirked.

'See you at home,' he thought, smirk breaking into a tender smile, and Roxas wouldn't have it any other way.