A/N: I was dreaming when I wrote this. Also, it's been a while since I sat down and wrote something, so please bear with me. Unbeta'd.

Disclaimer: Kingdom Hearts belongs to Square Enix and Disney. Ikea belongs to Ikea. Strange and Beautiful is the property of Aqualing. I own nothing but this sorry excuse for a romantic fanfic. Ugh.

I've been watching your world from afar, and I've been trying to be where you are…

You always want what you can't have. It's in the laws of nature to acquire that one thing that you've always wanted and needed, and you'll keep working hard to achieve that goal. Life goes on, controlled by wants and needs. Humans need food, water and oxygen. Emotions need to be sustained and released. Lust needs to be vented, and above all: you need someone - or something - to tell you that you'll be okay in a time when you don't feel like you can keep going on.

For me, that 'something' was something that lived and breathed and had needs of its own. To me, this…thing, this person: I need him.

This is how I found myself returning night after night to the same bar, the same dive where my…'beloved' would play. Those deft fingers gently dancing their way over the simple, tattered, yet beautiful piano never ceased to entrance me, and it was this beautiful melody that kept me coming back for more. Sometimes this enchanter would sing quietly, to my great pleasure and pain; it was so bittersweet. Money isn't a problem for one as wealthy as I am, but indeed, loneliness is the one killer that I simply cannot take. So despite whatever previous plans I would have, I would always make time to see him play. I found it refreshing to see something that money simply cannot buy.

The first time I came to this place was when a business deal fell through (to my great ire), and this bar was the closest place to my apartment where alcohol was for sale. Drinking home, alone, didn't sound very appealing so I decided to go out. It just so happened that this person – this musician - came on that one particular night when he would play that beautiful instrument, in that bar, on that stage. My God, I thought the chance that I'd stumble across him again was almost a million to one, so I had to stay and watch. But I didn't know that he would come back each week, like clockwork, to possibly earn that small morsel of money to allow him to carry on living in this large, lonely city.

When I first sighted him, I thought that I'd found my next conquest. He had curiously vibrant cerulean eyes; a mane of unruly brown hair (only tamed by fruitless brushes of combs and fingers that I wanted to run through) fell ever so delicately onto his face; he had (from what I could see) a slim, muscular body that simply dared you touch it, and when you did, you only felt the brunt of the temper that was sure to lay dormant past that sweet, serene smile of his. So that night, like every night he'd play, I sat down at a table alone, usually not too far from the stage. As the melody resonated throughout the cozy, dimly lit room during what I thought was the fifth time I've seen him, I found my mind changing, morphing, and shifting from that of perversion to admiration. I haven't felt this way with anyone I've ever seen before. Heck, this guy wasn't even hot, but, God, I wanted him and those skilled fingers running over my neck, clawing at my back; I desired those fingers tracing shapes on my cheekbones while I slept, and I wanted to wake to his beautiful face each and every morning while I was on this earth.

Tonight, I decided, was the time to approach him. I could no longer hold out and suppress this wanting – no, this need of finally speaking face-to-face with him. So when the last note was pushed on ivory, after the round of quiet, uncertain applause that came from behind me (myself included), I stood up and made my way from the lounge to the bar. I needed something to calm my nerves before I mustered up the courage to finally talk with him.

When I raised myself from the moth-eaten couch, thoughts ran wild through my head. How would I say hello? Would a mere 'hi' suffice? What if he's not into me? Is he already taken? I shook my head angrily, dispelling negative thoughts. No, that would only make me chicken out in the end. Dammit, this sort of behavior only happened with someone I really--

Soft lounge music began playing when the beautiful stranger stopped playing, which gave a more comfortable atmosphere to the dimly lit room. I noticed a set of speakers above the bar; it was as though the stream of sound was beckoning, and I'll be damned if I didn't oblige its call. As I approached the counter, I noticed a gaggle of young women giggling shyly at me. One of them even winked. The nerve. I pointedly ignored them, chuckling quietly as they huffed and sat down in the lounge area with their confidence swayed, drinks clutched tightly.

"Back again, I see," prompted the barman who was in the process of polishing a wine glass, yet sat it down when I slowly sidled onto a stool. "Can I get you something?"

"Just whiskey on the rocks, please," I replied coolly, my eyes now focusing on the once-occupied theater. The beautiful pianist had already retreated backstage, obviously preparing to either come to the bar for a drink (I hoped), or go home.

"All right," came the barman's reply. Though I could have sworn that he had muttered something extra; for my ears, it was simply background noise.

I took a semi-firm grip on the crystalline glass as it was placed in front of me, and I downed the fluid in one swift motion. It burned golden down my throat, and immediately my body warmed and felt at ease, if only a little bit. I nodded curtly at the barman, silently requesting another.

It was as I downed my second that he decided to make his way to the bar, a guitar case on his back and a small frown on his lips. Not wanting to look like some sort of stalker, I swiftly averted my eyes to the interesting-but-not bottle of 1994 shiraz wine on the wall above the box where the cigars were kept. And of course, I listened in to the conversation currently taking place to my left.

"Axel, did you say something funny to Roxas? He's been acting more moody than usual."

So that's what he sounds like normally…

The barman, apparently named Axel, shook his head (I could see them in the corner of my eye). He set down a glass and put it on a shelf underneath the counter, and replied, "I really don't know about that kid. One day he wants to punch my face in, and the other, he's kissing me like we're going to die within the hour."

I saw the short brunet tilt his head to the side. At this point, I had swiveled around and scanned my eyes over the bar, maintaining a disinterested look on my face to keep them from realizing I was eavesdropping. Although, it seemed that the bartender was gay…

"Well, I know he's a temperamental guy, but, please Axel, could you please stop adding fuel to the fire? I don't think that constantly pushing him will get you anywhere." He shifted the guitar case on his back slightly, wincing a bit at the weight. "I know you only want the best for him and I applaud you for that, and as his brother I think that's the best word you could get."

Axel shrugged. "Whatever. I still don't think I'm doing anything to make him angry. Just tell him to call me when he gets over his mood swing, and in exchange I'll get that new set of strings you ordered from the shop. Deal?" He placed another glass beneath the counter (he may have been slightly slow at his job, but he was efficient. From where I sat, I saw that the row of glasses on the shelf behind Axel were as clear as crystal. But that's not the main concern here).

"Axel, I'll do it because it's you. Not because I need a new set of strings." He smiled. "But that would be nice to have, too. Then I can go to Seventh Heaven tomorrow. I'm starting to become one of Tifa's favorites."

The barman whistled quietly. "Wow. You sure want that job in that company, don't you?"

"Only because mister Strife runs it, and him and Tifa are practically best friends… That, and I heard that you get paid a hundred an hour. Without tax," the brunet grumbled. "I don't want to have to use my hobby to make money for the rest of my life. I love music, and I don't want that passion to die by having to play it day in and day out to make enough money for a roof and food, y'know?"

Axel nodded in concurrence. "Yeah, well, we all want that, don't we?"

There was a pregnant pause for a few moments and I swore that for a second, they knew that I was listening to them. I felt eyes burning into the side of my head.

"I guess," the brunet nodded again, and looked down at his watch. "Oh, it's almost eleven. I've gotta go home. College work an' all."

"All right."

"Bye, then," he bade.

"Take care, Sora."

I froze as he walked off in front of me. Two reasons. One: I knew his name. Two: He's walking away and I didn't even say anything to him.

By the time I called, no—stuttered his name (his name is Sora. What a freakishly charming name) he had already disappeared behind the door. I hoped to some lord above that he would come back, sheepishly muttering about something that he left behind backstage. But he didn't. God damnit.

So I turned back around, about to request another drink.

I was met with smug, cat-like green eyes that belonged to that Axel fellow. He narrowed said eyes, and I felt my eyebrow twitch.

And then he smirked. The damn bartender smirked at me.

"Why haven't you said anything yet? It's not hard to notice that you want him," he drawled. "My blind grandmother with a scarf over her eyes could tell that your sex drive for him is through the damn roof."

"Dropped the formalities between staff and customer have we?" I retorted, but mentally I cursed myself for being so damn transparent.

I watched Axel raise his hands up in defense, but they soon resumed the timorous job they were doing earlier: cleaning glasses. "Hey, I'm just trying to help a fellow compadré out. By which I mean Sora." He smirked to himself. "God knows Sora needs to get laid or something."

I frowned, any denial of my infatuation falling away completely. "The hell? How dare you. I don't want to just have sex with him. I want--,"

"Information?" His hands were now busily working some ice.

"To get to know him, stupid. As friends." That was a bit of a lie, and both Axel and I knew it.

Axel grinned a toothy grin, placing a fresh glass of whiskey on the bar top in front of me. "That's what I thought you'd say."

"What do you mean by that?" I asked, ignoring the drink. Damn, this guy was too quick on the uptake.

"Look, I think—," Axel began, but his eyes quickly averted to the side as someone requested a drink from the other end of the bar. I watched him excuse himself for a moment, and he disappeared for a few minutes.

During those few minutes, I eyed the glass of whiskey that Axel had given to me for free. What was this, to relax me so that I'd talk more freely? Well, seeing as I had already screwed up my chances of meeting Sora, it wasn't as though he'd see me in my embarrassingly drunken stupor that I was sure to be in if I continued this way.

Cautiously, I once again lifted a whiskey-filled glass to my lips and sipped. It didn't burn on the way down as much as it did before, which is why I prefer to drink whiskey in the first place. Whilst on the topic of whiskey, I came to realize that I've been spending too much money on alcohol and dinners out with my workmates these last few weeks. I gingerly pressed my hand on my shirt-covered stomach, glad that it remained somewhat toned. I had Sephiroth to thank for that, as much as I hate to admit it. Those tri-weekly trips to the gym have thankfully kept me in shape.

I was jerked quite suddenly back into real-time mode when Axel somehow appeared in front of me again, grinning like he'd planned something questionable. I raised an eyebrow at him skeptically, finishing off the rest of the contents of the glass in my hand.

Axel cupped his face in his hands, elbows on the counter. A part of my mind wanted to laugh at how amusing he looked with this cheeks squished up like that, and another part wanted me to slowly edge away.

"I'm Axel, but you probably already knew that. You are?" he asked, smiling placidly.

It was hard not to avert my eyes as I answered. "It's Riku." I distractedly put the glass back on the counter, hoping he'd do something with it and change the subject. Yes, he took the glass away, but that devious glint in his eye assured me that he wasn't about to change topics just yet.

"Okay, Mister It's Riku." He grinned slightly. "How old are you, and what do you do?"

"I…" Somehow, the whiskey's effects started kicking in, and I began finding it hard to string intelligent words together like I always did. Oh well. "I'm an architect. I'm the manager-in-charge of the structural planning branch of Shinra, and my job is to co… correspond with clients and discuss plans and overall prices, et cetera…"

Axel nodded in understanding, silently urging me to continue talking. I smiled a small smile, allowing the alcohol's effects to run its course and keep my tongue wagging, just for the fun of it.

"Recently, though…" I frowned as I remembered. "I had a client by the name of Cloud Strife asking to see my brother Sephiroth, who also happens to be my boss. He's the CEO of Strife Industries… and they're planning on commissioning us to build a high-rise where Ikea used to be. You know where that is, right?" I slurred.

"Yeah, on the corner of Thirteenth Avenue and Sunset terrace. With the partitions over the footpath," he replied, folding his arms and standing up straight. "Two of my buddies live just near there."

"Oh?" I asked, smiling lazily. "Whereabouts?"

Axel tilted his head, smiling lopsidedly. "Roxas lives about a block away from there with Sora, actually."

Best damn question I've ever asked this week. My stomach did a few somersaults, and my heart pumped just a little bit faster.

"Sora lives—isn't that a bit far from here for him to--," I began, but was cut off.

"He's got his drivers' license, being twenty and all," the redhead prompted, throwing his hands up for effect. "Dude, would you be offended if I asked how old you are?"

Frown. "I'm… twenty-one."

"You're awful young to have a position like that at Shinra…"

"Excuse me?"

Axel quickly shook his head, grinning sheepishly. "Oh, ah, my bad. That wasn't my place to say…"

I felt my eyebrows furrow. "I started college when I was seventeen. I was the best in my year, so I won a scholarship that allowed me to enter college one year earlier than other students." I shook my head. "In a way, I regret it…"

Axel leant back down, interest dancing in those green eyes of his. "Why's that?"

I leant my face on my hand, willing the slow creep of fatigue to leave. Sighing deeply, I replied: "Because… I didn't allow myself to enjoy my teenage years. When most kids were getting drunk and having frat parties, I'd be either jogging on the track or studying. And for what? To have a high-paying job but having a complete lack of social skills? Sure, both guys and girls tried talking to me but I wouldn't have any of it; it was just the way I was brought up. Then they began to think I was too good for them, the stuck-up Riku with his rich family and extensive smarts and apparently great looks. I didn't ask for it. I just… had it. If it were any other way, I wouldn't object." I sat up suddenly. "As a matter of fact, I'd welcome it! Fuck, get me another whisky, Axel."

"Right on."

"And then… I graduated." I paused to take a sip of the brown liquid set in front of me, nodding for another one when I finished. "My brother Sephiroth had recommended me to his superior whose name is Rufus… and then they interviewed me, and two days later I was sitting in a corner office with my own secretary and espresso machine. It happened quickly."

"Mhm." I saw Axel raise an eyebrow skeptically.

"It was all just too easy… and in a way, I hate myself for it because I know there are people out there who work so damn hard and their end result is just another bad thing after the other."

"You yourself worked hard when you were in high school and then college," Axel reasoned. "Life will always be a bit harder if you don't bother to put in effort." He inspected a balloon glass in the light as he spoke. "Like Sora, for example."

I nodded at Axel intently, waiting for him to continue. Which he did, after he approved of the glass in his hand and then took another. His tone was very casual, as though he told this to everyone.

"Sora's studying psychology at university, and he's damn good at it. He's got this really weird knack for being able to read people after having one conversation."

"Uh huh.."

"No, seriously!" Axel laughed. "He suspected that I was gay before I even realised, and that I must have had some pretty eccentric parents because of my casualness and my tendency to laugh at things people wouldn't usually laugh at. Roxas has that perk as well, but he's got a few anger issues." He laughed to himself quietly. "I like that. Makes sex a whole lot more exciting."

At this, I raised an eyebrow again. I changed the subject. "So what do you do for a living? Polish glasses?"

Axel snorted, raising another one into the light. "Nah, this is a part-time thing. My day job is rather dangerous."

"Suprise me."

"I'm a bombs expert. I like to play with fire, explosives, flares... was in the air force for a while but had to leave because I was caught kissing one of the majors. Luxord I think his name was."

My eyes widened. "Wow, and I thought I'd seen a lot. You ever get burned?"

"Yup." He smiled lopsidedly and lifted his sleeve to show me a series of scars and burns, though none too serious. "Most of them were because of a tricksy red cord or two, but this," he pointed to a few puncture marks, "was thanks to Roxas."

From here I could see a bite mark in the fleshy part of his arm, and cringed inwardly. Note to self: don't get too close to Roxas. I turned away from Axel briefly, smirking, and looking back to the lounge where a few people still sat, stiletto-clad legs crossed under knee-length cocktail dresses. My eyes drifted to my watch; eleven eleven pm. I would have to go soon, but before I left...

"Axel, why do you work in a bar if you're a bombs expert?"

He grinned. "Well, I met Roxas here because he got into a fight with Sora's ex-boyfriend Leon."

My heart leapt in it's cage. Sora had an ex-boyfriend? He swung that way? Oh good God, yes! I re-arranged my face to a look of concern.

"Er, what happened?"

"Something about some guy named Cloud. I think it was for the best though, 'cause there's an six-year age difference between Leon and Sora, and this Cloud guy was far more Leon's type anyway. I think Leon and Sora are still friends, but Roxas gets anal whenever we bring that subject up."

"Ahhhahah, there were a few names in that last sentence. It seems as though you like to chat though. Leon is...?"

"Sora's flame when he was in high school, and Leon had just graduated from college. They met through mutual friends and there was a spark like you wouldn't believe." He shifted briefly to move a tray of freshly-polished glasses underneath the counter, then turning his attention to slicing lemons.

"And this makes me feel better, how...?" I watched his work, fascinated at how good he was at it.

"That Sora already has a mature grasp on how it is to handle relationships."

I remained silent at that, my mouth twisting into a frown as I crossed my fingers and leaned on my elbows. "And... why did it end?"

To this, Axel frowned. "Different values I suppose. The age difference wouldn't be as important if they were both older, but seeing as they're still young, it's rather large. Sora's in college, Leon had a full-time job and they couldn't see each other because they were so busy... so they ended it. Roxas never really approved of the relationship because of that age difference, but he never told Sora that. Also because Leon's now-boyfriend is like a blonde version of Sora... but then again Roxas is a bit hypocritical because our age difference is five years... hmmm..."

"Too much information, ugh."

Axel laughed through his nose. "Sorry. You heading off?"

I yawned as I stood up, and then stretched widely. "Yeah... I have an early start tomorrow. Gotta get those papers out of the way..." I felt the insides of my pockets for my wallet and keys, motioning for Axel to ring up my bill. Which he did immediately, the small ka-ching of machine working.

I watched him place a long piece of paper in front of me. "That'll be twenty dollars and fifty cents. I gave you a discount."

"Thanks," I said gruffly, placing twenty-one on the counter. "I'll probably see you later this week if you're around."

"Yeah." Axel nodded, taking the pre-offered money and putting it in the till. "Sora's next show is this friday, so I'll probably see you then."

I nodded, waving as I left. "'bye."

"Later, Riku."

As I headed towards the exit, I found myself mulling over all this new information like the true Scorpio that I am. Feeling in my jacket pocket for my box of cigarettes and lighting it as I stepped outside, I stared at the sky as I walked back towards my car. It's funny, at night you can hear the city's buzz amplified; the clack of my shoes on the pavement, the bang of a warehouse door close and the distant screech of a cat.

I need to get home.

Another need. Sighing, I finished off the cancer stick in my fingers and flicked it away.

My car beeped as I unlocked it from a distance, leather seats creaking as I sat down. I sighed again, resting my forehead against the back of my hands on the steering wheel and closing my eyes. This is so stupid...

--

I remember my bed being really comfortable, the sheets cooling my face.

I had a dream that night. Which is strange, because I don't usually have them. I was waiting for Sora in a brightly-lit restaurant, reading the menu and sipping on coffee. Waitresses were running around everywhere; was there a wedding going on? Everything was white. I looked at my Rolex, wondering how long I would be waiting for. Sora arrived shortly after, flanked by two mature-looking adults without faces, whom I assumed were his parents. He sat down next to me, bright smile decorating his face as I slipped my arm around his waist and kissed his brow. Suddenly he grimaced and the scene turned grey, and everyone but Sora and myself disappeared.

I awoke with a cold sweat that morning.

TBC.

At my leisure, keep in mind.
I'm planning another two chapters for this one, though I haven't sorted out everything completely.
I'd love to hear feedback! Any errors, criticism... shoot 'em all up my way.

-Val.