Roxas; You Drive Me Crazy

"Hey, you."

"I've got a name."

"Mm…"

"Riku. It's Riku. Geez, did you forget since yesterday?"

"I need to ask you a question."

"If it's about the nekkid pics of my mom, then forget it."

I don't say anything to that, flushing. Somehow he knows exactly what's on my mind, and it's freaky just how quickly he comes back with that kind of response. Like he's expected it since yesterday, when I ran across his sleeping figure for the first time. He's still by the same spot by the lake, with the same towel, with the same camera placed beside him. But he's awake this time, waiting for me after school.

(How'd he know I decided to come today?)

Still quiet, I sit down beside him and settle my bag in front of me. Avoid his eye. Somehow I sense the smirk on his lips.

(What's with that smile? What's with those eyes?)

I don't particularly mind either.

"You were going to ask about the pictures of my mom, right?"

I stay quiet for a long while, then say, "Why do you have them anyway?"

"Why were you looking?"

"It's not my fault you have those kinds of sick photos on your camera, Freakazoid."

"It's not my fault you poke into people's private lives."

I don't say anything, still avoiding his eye. A bit too personal. He doesn't know me, and yet it hits so close to home. Somehow I can tell his smirk isn't going away. Something about him annoys and fascinates me at the same time. I want to punch him as much as I want to probe into his life. Because it seems so…different, his life. I can't pinpoint it. It's something I want to learn about. (Be a part of?) I don't know anything about his life but the pictures are a start.

He crosses his legs, leans back in the damp grass and supports himself with his arms stretched out behind him. I look at him only because he sweeps his hair out of his face—what's with that girly hair?—and there's no looking away from that much silver.

Quite matter-of-factly, the teen says, "She asked me to take the pictures."

I blink. "Your mom. Asked you. To take naked pictures of her?"

"It's called artistic nude for a reason."

"Dude, that's your mom."

"It's art," he explains, smirk fading into something much more serious now. Even his tone changes and it's entrancing the way his eyes stare into mine. I remind myself that I'm not that kind of guy—am I?—remind myself to keep breathing as he speaks.

He even reaches for his camera and pulls up the picture of his mother again, holds it up for me to see. "Mother or not, it's a human body. Look, you see how she's curving? How the light hits her body right then? How she's staring directly at the camera with so much raw power in her eyes? It's like she's saying she knows she's beautiful, like she's saying that she is beauty. And if not, then she'll make you think so. It's more than just a naked woman, it's a series of natural curves in all the right places and humanity at its simplest. Raw, bare, expressive, fluid…"

How can someone say so much about their mother? How can someone take something that looked and felt so naughty—at least to me—and make it sound so beautiful? Like poetry? He isn't just justifying this picture, he's glorifying it. He's passionate about it.

And I soak up every word he says, in awed silence.

Axel was an idiot.

He was an idiot who smiled too much and laughed too loud and cracked too many jokes. He was an idiot who happened to know me too well, who happened to like me too much, and it pissed me off with a passion. He was an idiot that I happened to like far more than I wanted to admit, and that pissed me off even more. He was an idiot that made mistakes he opted to ignore, who screwed around with people when he knew damn well better, who didn't seem to care.

Axel's an idiot.

Unfortunately—fortunately?—he was my idiot. But I wanted to fucking kill him right now.

Because there was no excusing the look on Sora's face.

The brunette had left the party far earlier than I'd thought he would. Not that I had been paying any close attention to him, done up in some blouse and skirt and heeled boots. Not that I wanted to look too hard at my twin parading around in his female form for the night—I tried pushed it out of my mind. Tried to focus on Xion, who had been dragging me around towards some corner to meet a friend of hers. A writer. I wasn't able to focus. Kept seeing red spikes from the corner of my eye, kept spotting that damned grin on his face and the matching one on Sora's.

But then they'd gotten drinks. Somewhere. From Zex I think. They'd started drinking off in their own little corner. Sora'd been drinking and getting this weird look on his face, like he couldn't keep it down. Axel had this gleam in his eyes. Something wasn't right between them, and yet…

But then they'd stumbled out the back entrance, clearly intoxicated. I remember that I didn't like that look. I didn't like how unsure Sora had looked, how adamant Axel had been, how he'd all but dragged the younger boy outside with him. I'd almost excused myself from Xion and her chatty friend and went to follow them…

But then I saw Riku stalk after them, curious. I could only stare, dumbstruck. (And what the hell was he poking his nose in for?) Yet I'd only watched as he followed my sibling and friend, tuned out the rest of the noise around me in that crowded club that I swore—swore—I was never coming to again…

Something happened outside. Something with Axel and Sora. Something Riku had seen and had been appalled by, because he'd wandered back inside not long after with even more color gone from his naturally pale face and this expression. Like he'd witnessed something he shouldn't have.

Axel and Sora… That idiot had done something, and Sora had left early.

"What's wrong?" I asked him now as he opened the bathroom door. In spite of the foreboding feeling that settled in the pit of my stomach, I had stuck it out for the rest of the party, had gotten a ride home from Dem much later. In spite of my curiosity, I had pushed it out of my head long enough to focus on getting things ready for school tomorrow, on getting ready for bed. Yet with PJ's, towel, and wash cloth in hand I eyeballed my twin with that unsteady feeling growing again and leaping from my stomach into my heart.

Sora didn't answer. No, he had this tired, broken look on his face though that seemed to ask me a question: What isn't? He made an unconcerned sound in the back of his throat, pushed past me still wrapped up in his towel and clutching a trash bag and his wig. Then he disappeared into his room and shut the door behind him. There was something dismissive about it. Something timid about it, like he was holding something back.

And I knew whatever had happened was Axel's fault. In some hard to explain way, I felt responsible for whatever little thing the red head had done, as if somehow his slipup was a result of my slipup. And was this necessarily a little thing? Or was it something bigger than that? I'd never seen my brother like this…

There was something in his silence that worried me to the point of anger.

At him for not speaking— But you two haven't been on speaking terms in months.

At Axel for causing it— But you don't know the full story.

At Riku for— For what, dumbass, for knowing more than you do? For popping up again when you've so carefully made sure to pretend he doesn't exist?

As far as my life was concerned, he didn't. Not anymore. Yet he saw something and I was hit the powerful need to know what. The thought of contacting him after all this time…was actually tempting. Would he answer? Would he even want to tell me anything? Would he deny he saw anything at all? What…

"What're you just standing there for?" I heard Ma's voice from behind me not long after, cutting into my thoughts. The woman was just now getting home, already shrugging off her suit jacket, kicking off heels as she made it to the top of the stairs. Only briefly did I look back at her before giving a shrug and heading into the bathroom. Showered. Thought. Washed my hair. Thought. Brushed my teeth, changed into pajamas. Kept thinking. Tried to stop thinking, but the damn thought was still there.

What the hell happened?

The entire time I replayed the scene thoroughly, repeatedly, in my head. Sora and Axel danced. They were happy. They talked. They drank. They stumbled tipsily outside. Something happened. Riku saw it. Somehow it freaked him out and upset Sora.

What the hell happened?

Where was Axel in all of this?

That question stuck itself in my head when I finally made it out of the bathroom and padded carefully over to my brother's room. It wasn't often that we ever went into each other's rooms—not for a long while, not for years—but I figured if I wanted answers it made sense to start at the source. I'd just knock, check in on him. See if he was okay. Because as freaky as he could be, he was still my bro. As much of an asshole as I could be, I wasn't that bad. Or so I liked to think. So I raised a slightly pruned hand to knock on the door, waited with a towel draped over my still drying hair.

I was answered by the faint—I'm telling you, you had to strain, strain, strain your ears to hear it—sound of crying. It was muffled and jerky, yet somehow controlled sobbing. It had me freezing outside the door, had something inside of me hardening. Part of me didn't understand it. Part of me did. Part of me wanted to open the door and peek in on Sora's crying figure. Part of me wanted to pretend I didn't hear anything at all. It wasn't my business. But that was my brother. Maybe it was a twin thing.

What the hell had him in so much pain?

I stood there silently, listening to that pitiful sound for three more minutes before opting not to say anything at all and disappearing into my own room. Too long I sat on my bed unsure what to do. Too long I sat staring at the green 10:23 glaring at me from the clock on my nightstand. Too long I thought about that scene at the party, about what I'd just heard, about how much it bothered me when it really shouldn't have been my concern, but… Then I narrowed blue eyes, dug out my cell phone and sent a reluctant text to Axel, because it was driving me crazy.

'We need to talk. Soon.'

I could have called, but he wouldn't have answered. Chances were he wasn't even going to answer this text—but I knew he'd at least look at it. He'd probably eyeball it for a long time, cigarette in hand, probably give an indignant snort before flipping his own phone closed and assuming that I wouldn't talk to him again until tomorrow if at all.

In fact, I did end up waiting until the very next night because I was too confused to know exactly what I wanted to say to the red head if I did see him again. The rest of the house was already sleeping. Sora had been acting...differently since this morning. I wasn't sure if it was a good kind of different or not, but I couldn't shake the sound of him crying last night out of my head. So sometime around ten—10:23 again, an odd coincidence—I found myself changing back into more comfortable clothes, locking my bedroom door, and slipping out of my window as quietly as possible. Never mind if, for some reason, Ma woke up and came to check on me. Never mind if I ended up staying out much later than I intended. To hell with the cold bite of the night air or the dampness that clung to my jeans as I steadily climbed from the roof to the backyard. Some weird sense of determination took over my body, so suddenly that it scared me.

I merely zipped up my jacket, stuffed my hands in my pockets, and made my way towards the closest bus stop.

"Why are you here?"

"I missed y—"

"Don't give me that shit, Roxas. Why the fuck are you here?"

I bite back my words. He's on alert, emerald eyes blazing at the mere sight of me on his doorstep. Zexion's got a night class every Tuesday, so I know he's not present. Demyx could be lurking in the apartment somewhere, but the red head's looming form in the middle of the doorway doesn't allow much room for me to glance inside the apartment.

I stay calm. Repeat, "I missed you."

He bristles. Three simple words, and yet he's so pissed, but he doesn't say anything. Sizes me up. I feel small right now. I can look at it a number of ways, but the fact remains that there's a good four and a half years between us. It doesn't seem that bad, but in terms of sixteen to twenty … It seems like a humongous gap. It makes me feel like more of a boy compared to this man. I feel small.

But he gives me a look that doesn't seem like an adult scolding a child, more a look of someone judging their equal, and I stand a little straighter. Hoping. Praying.

I've missed him. For a long time now I've missed him, and it's brought me to this visit. I'm the one that started ignoring him after he and Sora met each other, yes, but that didn't mean it hadn't driven me crazy. I've missed him and his voice and his face, God, his face, even if it was stiff with anger.

Something in his expression softens after a moment, though. Resignation. He folds his arms across his chest—very visible in the form fitting, long-sleeved black T-shirt he's sporting—leans against the door frame. The edge still doesn't leave his tone. "You missed me. So what?"

I don't know what to say to that.

"What, you thought I'd welcome you back with open arms? Whadda you want, a big ol' kiss, a fucking hug? What, Rox?"

"Can we start over?"

"What makes you think I want to?"

"Axel—"

"I'm fuckin' done, okay? I'm tired of this 'I hate you again-I want you again' bullshit you've been pulling for the past three years."

"Axel."

"You don't get to just decide that you 'forgive me' all of a sudden, that you want to start over, and expect—"

"I'm not expecting." He stops talking when I reach out and grab his hands. Whatever fight he had left in him disappears when I squeeze those lean, burning fingers in my own and give him an almost pleading look. I stay calm, voice soft. "I'm asking. Can we start over? 'Cause I've really missed you."

It's the closest to an apology I can muster right now. Because I don't know what to say or how to say it. I never know quite what to say. His friendship with Sora still bothers me. And it's not the friendship part of it so much as it's how it started. How do you explain the embarrassment of having a cross-dressing brother to the friend who actually digs that sort of thing? How do you handle knowing the your friend's first impression of your sibling—a sibling they hadn't even known existed until that day—was a half-naked boy wearing fake breasts and makeup? So much about it still bothers me, but I don't say anything else about the subject.

If Axel wants to talk about it, he doesn't let it show. Instead he squeezes my hands back, still studying my face carefully. Then, right there on the porch and uncaring if anyone outside saw, he leans down and pulls me into a kiss. It is a long kiss, slow and heavy and sensual, and I feel his tongue wrap itself with mine before running over my bottom lip. My eyes slip shut and I feel his hands breaking away to settle on the back of my neck. I rest my own fingers against his ridiculously skinny (just shy of bony) waist, pulling in closer to him.

Then we're inside, behind the door, lips still locked.

Then we're more hungry with our movements, running hands everywhere, peeling off clothing.

Then we're on the way to his bedroom, on his bed, in the sheets…

There's no more talking, just "Yes" and "Right there" and "Ah—ah!" Limbs tangled and hair mussed up and a thin layer of sweat that covers our soon naked bodies. We have sex after seven months (almost eight?) of no contact, physical or otherwise. It's hot. It's wild. It's tender and passionate. It makes my mind shut down completely for the rest of the night, and I don't think twice about spending the night there even though I have school first thing tomorrow. That, and I'm sure Ma will notice that I've snuck out. I don't think about that afterward, though, I just settle myself into the curve of the man's body and relish his warmth, enjoy the even sound of his breathing, the light hum in his throat, examine the sculpted beauty that is his face and body that feel so good and so right, and I—

Regret it.

That was two nights ago. At that time, I'd come to the conclusion that the feelings I had for Axel were okay, and the longer I tried to bury them the further apart we'd get. Two nights ago my moronic behind thought, if nothing else, we could settle back into our old routine. So long as he'd accept me again. So long as we were talking again. So long as I could feel him touch me the way he used to, talk to me the way he used to. The silence had killed me. Even now I don't quite know why I had gone over in the first place, in the middle of the night no less, but he'd relented and pulled me in. I'd gotten what I wanted.

Then left promptly the moment I woke up the next morning and didn't talk to him since. Some sort of fear had settled in at that point, some feeling I couldn't explain, and very suddenly I told Axel that a mistake had been made and that I had to go. Obviously hurt, he hadn't bothered to stop me.

Two nights ago. And I was back again, sure I wouldn't be accepted a second time. Things were a bit different now, though… This time it would be strictly about Sora, nothing else. I needed to talk to Axel about Sora but—

"Why do you care, Rox? It's not like you gave a damn about him before."

And that fucking hurt right then, that was a fucking lie, because if I didn't give a damn then I wouldn't have been out here in the first place. My jaw was tight. "He's my brother."

"You've never been one to act very brotherly, if you ask me."

Keep it cool. "I just… It bothers me. You two did your own thing, and I stayed out of it 'cause you two looked happy."

Was that it, though? Wasn't it because of the skirts, the dresses, the hair, the makeup? Or was it jealousy? That my friend seemed to be able to click so well with my brother in spite of the brunette's issue…or that my brother was able to open up so completely to someone other to me? Wasn't it both? Why couldn't I get that out in words?

I didn't have to stay out of it. Axel told me so, emotion flaring up in those eyes of his. I didn't have to stay out of it, they were just friends.

But then Sora wasn't one of the love-struck girlfriends Axel often rotated between every few weeks. He wasn't some disposable toy for the red head to play around with, to sleep around with, like he did with others—he'd always been open with me about that. It was a hard thing not to notice; Axel could be a shameless flirt, a ladies' man.

But he didn't need to be Sora's man.

"Are you two together?" I finally asked him, still running those thoughts through my head. Their friendship. The party. Sora crying…

He scowled. "No."

"Did Sora think you were together?"

We both knew the answer before it even left his lips. His fingers twitched; the cigarette cradled between them did as well. It was here that the eye contact stopped, that green orbs wandered off to the side as he gave a lazy, "Dunno."

Figures.

"You're a piece of work, Axel."

"Look who's talking."

And more sharp words were exchanged, insults thrown. We were both letting loose and yet holding back, frustrated yet longing for something more. Somehow the conversation had taken a turn away from Sora to just the two of us. To two nights ago.

"I'm not some living sex toy, Rox. I'm not just gonna get it up whenever you feel like it and then go on with my life like that's all there is to our relationship. I'm tired of that, and I'm tired of having to settle with that. You know how I feel, so don't treat me like some booty call. Don't give me mixed signals. Don't tell me to treat you like an adult and then go and act like a damn child."

Child. I didn't say anything.

I felt small again.

"Which is it?" he demanded with narrowed eyes. "Do you wanna be with me or not?"

It was a question I couldn't answer. Didn't want to answer. Not now. My voice was much quieter than I intended, almost a whisper. "I really don't know, Axel."

And his response was much swifter and much harsher than I'd expected. "Then quit screwing around and get lost. I'm not about to stand here and take shit from you."

But Sora.

"…I made a mistake, alright. A dumb one. I'm sorry for that. But if you want the story, you'll have to get it from him."

But I came to you.

"You're so damn worried about Sora, try asking him yourself. You know, he's not some damsel in distress. He's not some baby who needs you watching over him like a mother hen twenty-four seven. He's tough and he can take care of himself. Give him more credit, alright?"

But you didn't hear him crying. But you don't know.

"And I'm sick of you acting like some possessive man whore with a superiority complex! If you care so much about your brother, then act like one instead of sneaking around behind his back and prying into his life when you've clearly cut him out of yours."

But, but…

"What? Too harsh? Hit the nail right on the head, didn't I?"

But…

But he fucking had.

I think, for a brief moment, I was literally possessed by the Devil. Vile imaginings crossed my mind; evil things that no person should have to endure were playing out in my head with Axel as the main character. I glared and choked out, "Screw you."

"Screw yourself."

I was already turning to leave, already trudging back down the walkway with more confusion circling round my head than when I'd first gotten here. It was so late, too late, and I'm sure there would be no more buses running. I'd have to walk, and by the time I got home it would be going on one-something, giving me a little less than five hours to sleep. And I felt foolish for coming all the way out here when I knew—part of me had already known—that I wouldn't get any substantial answers. I should've known better.

But maybe I just wanted to see his face again.

I should have just stayed out of it and spared myself the humiliation.

But maybe I really missed the silk smooth, milk rich sound of his voice.

I should have made up my damn mind about what I wanted when it came to Axel, because this back and forth thing wasn't going to fly anymore.

But maybe I didn't know what I wanted.

I'm an idiot.

Back tracking to earlier that day, before I'd even gone to see Axel. Back in school. To him.

He still took his pictures. Of that much I was sure. We hadn't talked at all since the end of freshman year, since the break up.

I couldn't keep my eyes off him today.

Normally so attentive, especially to any and every gaze directed his way, Riku surprisingly didn't notice me staring at him all throughout psych class. He seemed distracted by something, not all there. I wondered if it had anything to do with last night… It wasn't until he glanced towards the clock by the door that his gaze locked onto mine. He blinked. I blinked back, playing it off like I didn't care. Like I was more interested in Mrs. Belle's lecture about nerve impulses than the hypnotic green of his eyes. I pretended to write some notes down, looked down onto my notebook until he looked back away.

I didn't even have to see his face to tell that he was scowling.

Normally I would push all thoughts of him from my mind. Normally, he wouldn't exist. Today, though, I was overwhelmed with curiosity.

Surely he'd gotten a picture of last night? Surely he saw what Axel and Sora had done? Surely he knew something, something that could let me know what the situation was. Was I being too nosey? Hell yeah, but I didn't give a damn. I was going to find out one way or another.

The bell rang. Chair legs scraped against the titled floor as people scooted out from their desks, collected their things. A mix of juniors, sophomores, and a couple of seniors filed out of the classroom seemingly oblivious to Mrs. Belle's reminder of the chapter quiz this Friday. I was quick to get out the door, quick to head to my locker just a handful of steps away from the classroom.

His was right next to mine. He went to it every day. He'd have to talk to me. He probably realized this, too, because he took his sweet time coming from the room, strolled towards his locker. I'd already opened mine, was piling books inside and out, trying to look calmer than I really was. Silence between us as he spun in his combination.

Then I took my chance.

"Saw you at the party last night."

Of course he didn't say anything.

"You…still taking pictures?"

His expression was morphing from mildly annoyed to pissed as he snatched his Algebra II textbook. "Why do you care?"

Because you have answers I want. "Just curious."

"Well don't be."

This was going to be a lot harder than I thought. I'd have to phrase things in a way that didn't seem too probing, didn't seem too desperate. Because I could trust Riku to pick up on that and decide, just to torment me, that he wouldn't tell me squat. I'd have to get him to give me some hint that he saw something without him realizing it…

"Roxas~"

But a familiar voice from behind yanked me out of my thoughts. I would have snapped at the voice's owner, but the moment I turned to see a perky Xion approaching me I couldn't help but relax and smile back. Without really thinking about it, I pulled the girl into a hug. "Xion, hey."

She slipped her hat off—Invader Zim, why did that not surprise me?—and leaned in to plant a kiss on my lips that I fought hard to make myself return. "We're gonna be late to class."

"Alright, hold on."

She was a pleasant distraction, but that didn't keep me from looking back at Riku, from opening my mouth to say something. I didn't know what, but my opportunity was steadily slipping away.

He was slinging his handbag over his shoulder, though, and brushing past the two of us without a word. And the opportunity was gone. Xion, sensing the tension, carefully wrapped her hand around my free one and shot me a curious look. "Everything alright?"

I didn't take my eyes off Riku's retreating figure. Opportunity lost. Sora wouldn't tell me. Axel wouldn't tell me. And Riku sure as hell wouldn't tell me. Great.

I sighed, closing my locker. "It's fine."

Author's Note: There was a time-line error that I had to fix the moment I caught it. Roxas didn't sneak out of the house to confront Axel until the night AFTER the party, not the night of. He spoke (briefly) with Riku earlier that day at school, which is why the last scene is a "back-track". It doesn't drastically change the story or anything, but I needed to point that out. Sorry for the mix up!

And for the record, yes, I have an extensive timeline specifically for this story that I try to stick to religiously. C: