Feeling himself pulled from the haze of sleep by his body's need to pee, Axel groaned in quiet displeasure, even as he moved to obey it. Wasn't like there was anyone in bed to tempt him to ignore it; for once in their lives, Roxas was actually up before him.
When he was finished, the redhead scrubbed a hand over his face and stretched, yawning. No point in going back to bed now at all; up was up. So he just made his way downstairs.
To get to the kitchen in their house, one had to pass through the living room, located at the bottom of the stairs. It wasn't a large house really, there were only three rooms on that level, so there were only three places Roxas could be. As per usual, he was sitting in front of the TV in the living room. Axel noted this with barely another thought, and turned into the kitchen to grab a drink.
It was about when his hand was reaching for a mug for his coffee that his mind caught the abnormal tick of the scene he'd just walked past. Axel backpedalled, sticking his head through the archway to get another look, just to make sure he wasn't entirely bat-shit off his rocker.
And yes indeed, there was Roxas, his Roxy, the spikey blonde who could be colder than the North Pole dipped in liquid nitrogen and swore up and down that he would lynch anyone who questioned his 'bad boy reputation' (and would actually back it up), sitting on the couch, knitting.
Knitting.
Without looking at what he was doing.
Implying skill.
Implying experience.
Implying he'd been doing this for more than…he…should've…
….
What.
And that sneaky fucker knew. Even as Axel stared, trying to unbreak his brain, a nasty little smirk that had nothing to do with what he was watching (a healthy choice of CSI Miami) made itself known.
"Yes Axel?"
The words, said in the smuggest, most pretentious…prick-iest tone anyone would ever be able to manage, snapped the redhead out of his trance.
"Since when do you knit?" He asked, not even knowing what he had just done.
That cocky bitch of a smirk widened juuuuuuust enough to make Axel's eyebrow twitch, and he tensed further when Roxas paused in his work, sat up straighter, and affected the haughtiest, and yet still most Axel-like tone he ever could.
"I'm aware you have a personal vendetta against knitting, Axel, but mine is fucking amazing, so you can feel free to shut your mouth about it, got it memorized?" The last bit was snarked out through a pinched face and a barely contained laugh.
The redhead flipped his boyfriend off and slouched back into the kitchen, grumbling unintelligible replies and thinking of only two things.
Revenge.
And tea.
-Sable