It's been a while since the two of them talked.

It was so gradual – they stopped sharing breakfast together, stopped shopping together, stopped driving to work together, and eventually… They just stopped being together.

Roxas was the one who walked. Axel wasn't surprised when he did. He didn't stop him. Cold little Roxas, with his beautiful blue eyes and gorgeous golden hair, and his icy, icy heart that Axel had thought had been melted, by him no less.

Apparently not.

Axel would be able to recount that night for the rest of his life. He would be standing in the corridor, watching the blonde take his photographs off the walls. He would be crying, and the emerald green eyes would silently beg him to stay, please, please stay, because I need you, I need you so goddamn much.

And those giant blue jewels would look at him, and the usually soft, methodical voice was raspy and quiet and strained.

"It'll never go back to the way it was, Ax."

It was like a punch to the stomach, those sweet little words. Sweet little Roxas, trying to justify his actions with words that belonged in a greeting card, because that's how it had always been. Roxas would always get the girl, and twist their heart and spit it out again, and Axel knew that it was coming, but he didn't know that it would happen so soon.

~o~0~o~

Crying in the kitchen, turning the steak knife in long, calloused fingers, Axel brought his thoughts back to when they kissed.

~o~0~o~

It was Friday night, and Axel had just broken up with his girlfriend, and they were drinking and clubbing and celebrating, because Roxas thought she was a bitch anyway, why would anyone blame him for their break-up? Axel denied this, said that he would always be number one in his books, but he was just a best friend, and he would never break him and his girlfriend up, right?

And then someone bumped them, and they got a little too close, but they didn't stop dancingdrinkinglaughing until their faces were a little too close and their thoughts were a little too fuzzy and suddenly they were kissing and arms were wrapped around each other and it was hardly romantic, but they didn't stop didn't think didn't breathe.

And they were walking home because which taxis are operating this early? And they keep kissing and touching and holding and talking. They had never talked so much in their short lives, they decided, and they were making up for it in two short hours.

~o~0~o~

He runs the knife along the back of his forearm, a thin line of red appearing almost instantly, blurred and warped in his tear-filled vision, and the sudden question of is this what he really wants hurtling at him, and he wonders if this is really what he wants, or if this is just him copping out, but Roxas said it'll never go back to how it was, and that's all he really wants now.

He pushes the knife in deeper.

~o~0~o~

They used to be friends – good friends, best friends even. They would stay up until the sun came up, talking and enjoying the company, the freedom, the warmth. Axel was able to take some of the cruel jokes that Roxas made, because he knew that deep, deep down, he was an insecure little boy who had to watch the sun come up with someone to lean on. And Roxas was able to put up with Axel – obsessive, clingy Axel – because he knew that he meant well, and that he would always be there to lean on should he need it.

They were able to help each other through the grief and suffering that came with being them – Axel let Roxas live at his house when he came out to his parents, and he never asked any questions, because they were too busy talking about all of the great things that they would do in the future. And Roxas would ditch school with Axel whenever someone had poked fun at his hair, or his voice, or his intelligence, because Roxas knew that it took an exceptionally large dose of choc-chip mint ice cream to calm an unhappy Axel down.

Their relationships were short – Axel was always the one that put too much effort in, and Roxas was always the one that never even bothered. Axel was always the one that was broken up with, and he was always the one that depended on his best friend to cheer him up in his own special way, by making his snarky jokes, and ruffling his hair and telling him Jesus, Ax, she's just a girl. And Roxas was always the one that broke up with his boyfriends, and he never did it with words. He would simply leave a note in their trousers while they were kissing, and then he would walk away, and talk to Axel, who carried a look of pain and confusion on his angular little face.

"Why do you always do it like that, Rox?"

And Roxas told him that he would never have to deal with any of their 'I can change' or 'Please give me another chance' crap, and he needed to prove that he was strong and some other shit that Axel didn't even listen to, because he could feel his heart thumping in his ears, because would he do that to me?

~o~0~o~

There's blood leaking onto the table now, and Axel's still crying, because he thought that he really had a chance with this kid, really thought that they could be together forever, and that they would never be apart, because they were married, and that counted for something, right?

He drives the knife into the wood, carving out their last name, because they shared it, and Axel Taylor would be with Roxas Taylor and they would adopt a kid one day and they would name her Allicia with two l's because that was a beautiful name and they both loved it, or maybe Axel just loved it and Roxas didn't really care because he never saw them getting anywhere.

That sounds much more plausible.

He throws the knife at the wall with a grunt of something like misery and loneliness and even guilt because he knows that if he just worked on them a little bit more towards the end then they would be standing in the kitchen and cooking dinner and kissing as they set up the table.

He remembers proposing.

~o~0~o~

Rain was falling outside the restaurant, and they had missed their reservation. Roxas had had the most awful day at work, and he just wanted to sleep, but Axel had told him no, no, this is going to be really great, please come. But now it was eight thirty and the sky was sending absolute golf balls of raindrops at their heads, and they had to walk to the taxi rank, because Axel didn't bring his car, because he'd wanted to go to a hotel, but he didn't say anything about that to Roxas, who was cold and angry and very, very wet.

As it turned out, the taxi rank was the most unpopular taxi rank in town. After waiting for half an hour in the searing cold, Roxas was on the brink of tears and Axel was sick of waiting.

He got down on one knee in the muddy water and took both of Roxas' hands and didn't say anything. Roxas didn't say anything either, and that was what made the proposal as beautiful as Axel remembered it. A nod, and a shaky ring on a finger later, Roxas wasn't Mr Bennet, but had become Mr almost-Taylor.

Axel thought the name suited him.

Axel had never even considered that they might break up. It was odd, because he had grown up with a divorced mother, but he didn't think that guys could break up, or drift apart, or run away like his father had, because he thought that two guys getting married meant that they would be together forever. Or something.

He had Roxas' name tattooed across his heart, his mind, his body. He would wake up, and there would be Roxas, his beautiful peaceful sleeping face that reminded Axel that he wasn't some kind of sadistic bastard, that he had a soul, and that he was in love with him. He was so, so in love with him.

Axel never thought that they would end up apart.

~o~0~o~

He never thought that he would end up bleeding on the dining room floor, with Roxas out the door, even after they had been given a blessing by everyone they knew, including Roxas' father. He never thought that it would have been such a fragile thing, their relationship, and he never thought that a few weeks of neglect could cause such damage. But maybe it was more than a few weeks, and he was just too naive to notice.

Axel is dying, and he knows that the moment that that little blonde head bobbed out the door, he died. He knows that he'll never be able to fix them now, and that he'll just kill himself, and the knife was the easiest way to do it. He's going to go to heaven, and it'll be through Roxas' frail, bony arms, shoving him upwards and away, through the dirty black clouds in hope of him finding a better place.

Axel just wants to take it back, before it all went wrong.