A/N: Okay, this is a work-in-progress mind you, so you'll find all the lemony goodness in the next chapter. (Once life gives me time to write it. .) SUMMARY: This is just an intro really. Nothing too exciting.
Anywho, this is my first time writing any kind of pairing or smut, so please review! Even if you wanna say I suck ostrich eggs, please tell me! Every bit helps!
DISCLIAIMER: I don't own KH. If I did..well, let's just say, that no one under the age of 14 would even be able to look at the cover.
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"NEXT!" the director yelled. A dejected, spiky-haired brunette shuffled awkwardly off the stage, cowboy hat still in hand.
"Does anyone in this fucking school have any talent?" the blonde muttered. He looked down at the resumes in his hand through tired eyes. 677. He had seen 677 auditions today, and not one of them had a smidge of talent. Number 509 seemed to have gotten it, 437 perhaps had some potential, but he needed raw, unbridled talent. The Woolgatherer could not be performed by amateurs.
"It's a two-person play. Two people. It can't be this hard…" the exhausted student director slumped onto his desk.
"Yo, director dude? Can…uh, can I go on now?" a voice called from offstage.
"Ugh," Roxas grunted, waving a lazy hand.
The auditionee smiled, and sauntered onto the large stage, clad in jeans and a concert t-shirt. He quirked his eyebrow when he saw the auditioner snoozing on a table. He coughed awkwardly to get the man's attention. "Duuude," he started. "You might wanna look at me while I audition."
The blonde jerked his head up, and unwillingly brought his gaze to number 678. He opened his eyes wide almost immediately, as a shock of red took up his view. Number 678's head was covered in bright red spikes. The director made eye contact with the man, and he was met with avid green eyes. Black teardrop tattoos were placed minutely underneath them. This was sure to be interesting.
"Okay, number 678 – " Roxas began.
The redhead cut him off. "Axel."
Roxas stared at the man on stage in disbelief. "Excuse me?" This guy was not doing himself any favors.
The redhead grinned. "The name's Axel. I'm not a number." And, damn him, the man had the nerve to wink.
The director grit his teeth. "Fine. Okay, Axel – " he spit out the kid's name " – I need you to turn to page 41 and read for Cliff. Start at about halfway down the page." The blonde's voice was wrapped in an icebox by the end of the sentence.
"No problemo," Axel chirped, and flipped open his script. His took a single deep breath in, then began to read:
"O, cut the shit, huh? There's no such thing as true love. True love's when you got a fat bankbook."
Roxas read the next line to fill in for the missing part: "Maybe for some people."
Axel continued, his eyes piercing into the wall behind Roxas.:
"Hey, one thing counts out there, Rosie-schmosie. Scratch! And you gotta leap in the fuckin dogfight and grab all you can grab. And while you're out grabbin it, true love's screwing the guy next door. And if you lose it, you get true love's consolation prize – alimony payments! So don't hit me with this stale bag of wholesale pigshit about true love because I been there and I know better…Alls I said was I want to hold you and you gotta make a big deal."
By the end of the monologue, Axel's toes were hanging off the edge of the stage, and the green eyes were boring into Roxas'. The director sat there, mesmerized, not able to stop staring at the man before him. Axel's last words were hanging in the air, and Roxas could not forget the emotion throughout the monologue. Axel was Cliff. Though he may not have looked it, Axel was one phenomenal player.
Axel finally broke eye contact with the blonde, and he smiled triumphantly. "So, how'd I do, Mr. Director?"
Roxas shook his head, and ran toward the edge of the stage. He extended his hand out to Axel, smiling brilliantly. "I have just found my Cliff. Congratulations." Axel took his hand slowly and shook it, his palm lingering on the blonde's.
"So…who's my Rose?" Number 678 asked, shoving his hands into the pockets of his jeans.
"I've yet to find her. But I know for sure, I am not looking for her anymore today." Roxas made his way back to his desk to ruffle through the papers once more. He plumped down into the hardback chair and looked over the hundreds of people he had listened to today.
Axel hopped down off the stage and walked over the place Roxas rested, placing his hands on the desk. "What grade you in, kid?" he asked suddenly.
Roxas did a double-take, and made eye contact once again with acid eyes. "Junior, thanks. I'm 21, I'll have you know. I'm a student director. And what about you, Axel?"
"Senior. 22." Axel smiled again. Roxas rolled his eyes and returned to the resumes in front of him. He hadn't heard the redhead move, which was why the voice suddenly in his ear startled him:
"Whatcha reading, Mr. Director?" Axel's breath ghosted the shell of Roxas' ear, and the blonde refrained from shivering.
"First, my name is Roxas. Mr. Roxas, to you, sir." The blonde turned to face the man and closed his eyes at Axel's unexpected proximity.
"Second, I need you to back the hell away from me, unless you want to be cut."
"Aw, what's wrong, Mr.Roxas? Am I invading your bubble?" Roxas caught the sudden drop in Axel's voice and it put him on edge. On top of that, the man had an odd glint in his eye.
"Actually, yes. And as your superior, I suggest you respect my personal space. " Roxas grasped the bridge of his nose and turned yet again to the intimidating stack of papers in front of him.
Then Axel entered his line of sight, placing his hands on either side of Roxas' chair, and loomed over the boy.
"This too close for you, Roxass?" He hissed the blonde's name. Said blonde flushed furiously at the growl in Axel's tone.
Roxas swallowed. "Actually, yes," he murmured, trying desperately to keep his voice steady.
"How about this?" Axel whispered, leaning in closer. Their noses were about an inch apart. Roxas tried to look anywhere but at the jade eyes in front of him, but Axel gave him no room to run.
The director couldn't keep a hold on coherent thought. "Um…m-maybe…"
The redhead chuckled. "You're cute when you stutter, Mr. Roxas." The afore mentioned boy's eyes flew open in shock as a pair of lips came crushing upon his own. The victim of the assault wiggled under the man above him, and that was when he became aware of a very tight situation situated in the general area of his groin. Wonderful.
Axel dragged the tip of his tongue along Roxas' bottom lip, trying to prod past the soft, pink obstacle. The boy wouldn't give in, so Axel resorted to nipping him there. The boy gasped, and Axel's tongue took the opportunity. Roxas fought against the man above him with his own tongue, but he knew it was a losing battle.
Shit, he had already lost.
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Okay, done with that! What did you guys think? I'm a drama nerd, yes, and The Woolgatherer is a wonderful play, if you haven't read it. The script was lying around, and it inspired me. Axel basically is Cliff. They're great parallels. :)
-tinote