AN: Whaaaaaaaaaaaat?! A new story?!

YES. Because Stripes gets these obnoxious little ideas in her head and needs to write them out. Sometimes they're awful, and then sometimes they're this.

So this is Stripes, writing solo (again). Leather refuses to have anything to do with writing this because she just wants to read it. I'm serious. She loves it and just wants to see it play out without having to do any work. Which is lame and lazy of her, but hey.

Alright, so here we are, with a Kingdom Hearts fic. And it's Akuroku to boot! And I've written like 5k words for this in the past 24 hours, so let's post this first chapter and see how you guys like it (I hope you do!). I'll shut up now~

Cheers!

Stripes

Come A Little Closer

.:Track I:.

"The Spark"

xxx

In his defense, it'd been dark. And he'd been drunk.

Really drunk.

The party hadn't been his idea, but apparently a few of his friends felt that he was too much of a shut-in because he was actually trying to graduate on time. And somehow they'd managed to get him in a car and carted across campus, even though he's pretty sure he'd been kicking and screaming the whole way. Not literally, of course.

The house was crappy, but not unlivable; cramped, but only because the equivalent of an entire lecture hall had been shoved into the little two-story tudor home at the edge of campus. He'd barely known anyone there, and once they were there Hayner and the others had promptly ditched him in favor of girlfriends and boyfriends, so lucky him was left alone in the crowd, making wonderful decisions about the number of jell-o shots necessary to make the party bearable.

Before he knew it, some random guy from some class he didn't remember ever taking roped Roxas into beer pong, and really, that was the beginning of the end. He wasn't bad, but his partner was already sloshed which just made life much more difficult for him as the game progressed, which, to his utter humiliation, ended with him stumbling back into some guy.

Well, okay, not some guy. The guy.

He'd pushed away from the other, wiping beer away from his chin and the front of his shirt from the spilt cup before there was a pair of too green eyes in front of his, staring at him with a lucidity that shouldn't have been possible with the practically visible stench of alcohol radiating off him. It gave him pause, if only for a moment, before that stupid smirk the guy had grew wider. Roxas had rolled his eyes at him, frown creasing the space between his eyebrows. "Thanks for the assist, now back off."

"Chill out, Blondie," thin fingers plucked the red solo cup from Roxas' hand, casually tossing it over his shoulder. "Hey, aren't you a little young to be drinkin'?"

Roxas' eyes narrowed, actually looking at the amazingly green-eyed moron in front of him.

Jesus fucking Christ, his hair was red. And not red like 'oh hey, I thought I'd try to be a ginger for a spell', but ass-rape-red. He pulled a face at the imagery he'd provided himself with. "Aren't you a little short to be a Storm Trooper?" he shot back, jabbing a finger into the much taller guy's chest.

Shit, he was really grinning now. The redhead's hand closed around his wrist, tugging Roxas closer with minimal effort and practically breathing tequila fumes against his cheek, "You quoting Star Wars at me, Blondie?"

Roxas nearly gagged. Everyone has a tequila story. His just happened to involve an impromptu trip to Mexico, a bathtub, and a questionable burrito, but that's an entirely different story.

Instead, he straightened his posture and put on his best half-drunken smirk. "And what if I am?"

The other just stared for a moment, and Roxas wasn't sure if he was trying to figure something out or if he'd just zoned out for a moment because of the alcohol he'd consumed. "C'mon, there's more fun to be had."

Roxas caught the smile spreading over the guy's face before he was pulled out of the room, bursting every space bubble he came into contact with as he was literally dragged down a hallway or five, through what may have been a kitchen or a brothel, and into a room full of sweaty college students and alcohol. The redhead sat him down, hands lingering a fraction of a second too long against the nape of Roxas' neck, and someone handed him a drink. Which he drank, because he was making all sorts of great decisions tonight. He watched green eyes watching him across the sloppy circle of party goers and looked away, feeling himself flush against his better judgment. Because, really, what was with this guy and his psychotic hair and piercing eyes and tequila breath and-

"You're up, Blondie."

-yeah, his voice was sort of amazing too, in that stupid husky way…wait…

"Huh?" he intelligently slurred, eyes snapping back to the redhead and following his gaze to the bottle of God-knew-what in the middle of the circle.

Shit.

He'd done this kind of thing before, albeit a lot more sober and with a group of people he had some recollection of meeting at one point or another. It was nothing. Spin, kiss, move on. Roxas leaned forward, taking the bottle between his fingers just at the base of the neck and spinning. And waiting as the glass slowed to a stop, pointing at his lucky match for the next ten seconds.

The girl was cute enough. She shuffled forward on her knees, probably ripping holes in her tights as she did, and tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. Endearing. Cute. The kiss was short and sweet and was met with whistles and hollers from the rest of the group. But so was every kiss.

It continued on like that, the group getting louder with each poured drink. Roxas had racked up a few kisses; a nice girl, a cute hipster boy, a party girl. When the bottle stopped in front of him this time he found the redhead staring at him, eyes far greener than they should have been, and the once dormant smirk awakened. He looked down at the bottle, and back to the other, who was now standing as a few loud whistles turned into clapping.

"Get it, Axel!" some blond guy in a corner was yelling over the other catcalls. Huh. Axel. Weird ass name for a weird ass guy.

Then Roxas felt himself pale. Or blush. He wasn't entirely sure which, but Axel was standing above him, grin boarding on maniacal, and hand extended out toward him. And Roxas was sort of screaming at himself as he saw his own hand take Axel's, pushing up off the floor. It was just a kiss. A stupid kiss because of a stupid game.

But Axel didn't kiss him. Instead, he pulled him out of the room. Roxas could barely hear the obnoxious cheer that broke out because the heartbeat in his ears was drowning everything out. And Axel was smiling over his shoulder at him, pulling him toward the end of a hallway. And what was probably a closet. Great.

Fuck.

With the door shut behind them, he could barely see anything. He closed his eyes for a moment, waiting for them to adjust and trying to take a moment to rationalize that he might get molested by Pipi Longstocking. So much for good decisions.

He sighed, opening his eyes, ready to lay down the law if he had to-

Axel's lips were soft. The kiss was gentle, chaste even. And it was over almost as soon as it began.

"Sorry 'bout forcibly draggin' you in here. Thought it'd make for a good show."

Roxas, once again, found himself just staring at this ridiculous man in front of him. Not even a man, a boy. A guy. Just some guy with red spiky hair and the most upsettingly beautiful green eyes he'd ever seen, who reeked of tequila and smiled too openly.

He reached out, tucking a strand of unruly blond hair behind Roxas' ear, "You can go back out now. I was hopin' for a kiss. Thanks."

It was dark. And he was drunk.

He felt himself move forward, a hand brushing over Axel's shoulder and pulling him down a few inches so their lips could meet. The lips against his parted slightly, and he could almost taste the alcohol. Roxas felt Axel's hands fall to his hips and tense for a moment before smoothing over the material, almost hesitant, but Roxas pressed forward and Axel seemed to have forgotten to be timid. He heard himself moan in the back of his throat as a hand slid over his lower back, the other finding its way to the nape of his neck. Axel's tongue traced over his bottom lip before Roxas nipped it playfully. And apparently Axel liked that.

Roxas stumbled back against the wall, pulling Axel with him, lips working feverishly against the other pair, everything blurring to teeth and tongues and wandering hands. He was feeling dizzy, and he knew it wasn't because of the alcohol. Axel tasted like…cinnamon. Cinnamon, tequila, and an underlying tang of cigarettes, and as much as Roxas loathed it, he wanted more. And he didn't even know why. He didn't know this man. At all. And here he was, gripping him like a vice and kissing him like he needed it to survive. At this point, he was pretty sure he did.

Axel's mouth was at his neck, lips ghosting over Roxas' ear, making unintelligible sounds when the blond rocked their hips together. "Y'don't play fair, Blondie," Axel purred against the hollow of Roxas' throat. His fingers slipped lower, underneath the elastic of the blond's boxers, pressing their bodies flush.

My, how this had escalated quickly.

Roxas was vaguely aware that he was breathing erratically, Axel catching every embarrassing sound the blond made in his mouth. He was also vaguely aware that someone was pounding on the door, rudely interrupting his dry humping session with his-

Okay, maybe he wasn't as drunk as he should have been.

Or maybe he was. Because Axel had ripped the door open, yelling something at that loud blond guy from earlier, who really wasn't getting the hint and was just standing there whining about some shit that Roxas couldn't care less about because really. But Axel turned back to Roxas and kissed him again, long and hard before leaving the closet and stumbling down the hallway with his friend in tow.

He stared at the mass of red hair as it disappeared from his view, the warmth that had been entirely his a minute before gone. What the fuck. Okay, so he didn't know the guy and they'd kissed. Yeah, okay, it was a party, they were playing spin the bottle, they were drinking, whatever. Fine. But…shit, he'd kissed him, hadn't he? Like it wasn't a random hook up. And the longer Roxas thought about it, the more he realized it wasn't. Because there was something about him, and he had no fucking idea what it was, but there was something that he knew he needed. And that thought was really irritating.

And that's how he ended up sitting in the back of this shitty lounge. Alone. On a Wednesday night, eyes pretending to scan homework that he finished hours ago. Because he's definitely not being a total stalker and definitely hasn't been for the past eleven days.

Because it's 11:43pm, and in two minutes he won't have to pretend like he's working on anything and can just drink and watch the band. He watches them take the stage just as the waitress brings him another drink, and tries not to be irritated through their sound check. Because in 45 seconds it'll all be worth it.

Because Axel's singing voice is pretty much the most attractive thing he's ever heard.

Not that he would ever admit that.

xxx