Author's Note: So, um, wow. It has been almost exactly four years since I've updated this. I do not expect any returning fans, as such, however, in the very unlikely case that you read this four years ago and are super pumped or super pissed or whatever…here is what I have to say:

To be perfectly honest, Kingdom Hearts – and thus my fanfiction – wandered out of my life a while ago. I was no longer inspired by it, and I did not really care to continue my fanfics. However, I recently experienced a great urge to play through Kingdom Hearts again. Which I am currently doing. And which, of course, gave me a great urge to continue my fics. I always get little urges every once in a while, because some of the scenes and storylines I'd planned out for them seem really exciting to write, or are very close to my heart...but these have been passing, and I've moved on to focusing on my original works much more.

But now, these stories have crept back into my heart and my notebook. So, here goes. I cannot promise this renewal of inspiration will last long, but we'll see…I apologize to any returning fans who have given up on this fic, or were upset by its disappearance, and I sincerely hope you enjoy this chapter.

Also, please forgive any changes in writing style that may seem incongruent with the last three chapters. It has been four years, after all.

Blackbird

Chapter Four: "Delicious Things"

When Axel had sauntered in to Sanctuary for the second time that day, he had not expected Roxas to be happy about it, but neither had he expected to be greeted by nothing more than the black tee he had left in the blonde's apartment. As soon as he'd found himself within range, Roxas had ducked behind the counter then jumped up and flung the shirt at Axel without even a glance.

The red-head fumbled with the garment, nearly dropping it on the ground before he slid up to Roxas and waited patiently, his usually solemn expression cracked with what he hoped was an alluring grin. In reality, it was probably too eager. There were not many people in the café – Axel had purposefully come just before closing time – yet, Roxas diligently focused his attention on some small task or another for a good while before finally turning back to his visitor.

"Really?" was all he said, throwing down the rag he'd been using to clean the countertop and raising a brow at Axel.

"I just wanted my shirt back," Axel said innocently. Anyone else would have believed him.

"You've had it for about five minutes now, so…"

Scoffing, the red-head decided to skip the games he'd had planned and get right to the point. "Go out with me sometime." It was not a question.

"Ha, no." Roxas leaned forward, rested his elbows on the counter between them, cupped his chin in one hand. He was smiling, so Axel smirked. Whatever Roxas might otherwise have to say about it, he was enjoying being pursued like this.

Axel also leaned forward, sliding his hand close enough to just barely flirt with the boy's elbow. When Roxas did not move to break contact, Axel said, "Ha, yes."

Tilting his head to one side, Roxas pursed his lips thoughtfully. The expression was such that all the lines of his face drew Axel's eye to the soft swell of the blonde's bottom lip, and Axel nearly choked on his own saliva. Clearing his throat to cover this, he took a slow step backwards, retracting his fingertips from Roxas's skin.

When Roxas pouted just so, he looked too much like Sora.

The blonde straightened, crossed his arms over his chest and regarded Axel with that sharp, pensive stare of his. Something about Axel's change in demeanor had interested him, and so the red-head was careful not to let on to having picked up on this.

"Maybe," Roxas conceded with a quick smile. Axel was ready to gloat, but the barista's attention had been grabbed by the short jingle of bells at the door. They both turned to watch three new patrons enter Sanctuary.

Axel blanched, and his throat dried. He did not recognize two of the people, but he was willing to assume that the smug man with long silver hair and cheekbones you could cut diamonds on was Riku. The slim brunette practically stitched to his side was, after all, Sora. There was a girl chattering behind them, smoothing her auburn hair, but Axel did not have any guesses as to who she was, as he was not paying one lick of attention to her.

Since visiting Sanctuary earlier that day, Axel had devoted a good deal of time to convincing himself that he would not run in to Sora here. It was impossible, he'd told himself, because he and Sora were like oil and water; cosmically repelled each other. It simply could not be physically possible for them to be in the same room anymore. The universe just couldn't allow so much hatred and hurt to exist in such a concentrated space.

And yet, here they both were under one roof. Sora with his new boyfriend, and Axel desperately grabbing at a chance to forget the brunette who had just wandered back into his life. The café suddenly seemed too small, a closet holding just him and Sora, with walls slowly closing in on them and a rapidly depleting supply of oxygen.

When Roxas turned to ask Axel to wait, the red-head had already hustled to the back door. He heard the blonde shouting for him to wait, but he didn't. Couldn't, really.

Axel did not particularly enjoy the idea of expressing – or experiencing, for that matter – any strong emotion, but if there were one he'd have pegged as the most useless, inconvenient, and devastating feeling of all, it would have been guilt. He avoided it as much as possible, and in general did a damn good job of this avoidance. Unfortunately, there was one thing that made it absolutely impossible to feel perfectly innocent, and that was Sora.

Sora could make Axel wallow in oceans of guilt. He could do what no other power on Earth, or in Heaven or Hell could. He could make Axel hate every cell in his body, regret every action he had ever taken.

He let a slow sigh slither out of his lungs as he sat heavily on a picnic table in back of Sanctuary. He raked his fingers through his hair and tugged lightly at the strands, leaning back and rolling his eyes to the stars. Finally, he wondered if he would ever forgive himself for what he'd done to the brunette.

It was only a short time before he heard the door to the café open, then click shut again. He watched Roxas pull off the forest green server's apron he'd had tied around his waist and hang it on the doorknob. In a moment, he was sitting next to Axel, staring unblinkingly.

"What was that all about?" he asked, sounding surprisingly disinterested as he produced a cigarette from behind his ear and lit it with a lighter from his pocket. When Axel did not answer, Roxas shrugged, and instead said, "You smoke?"

Axel did not know how to respond. He'd quit recently but the blue tendrils of Roxas's second-hand smoke were wafting past him, then that pleasant sting and that addictive bite were seductive ghosts in the back of his throat and the bottoms of his lungs.

The blonde had been watching his expression carefully and snickered with understanding. He took a long, heavy drag, then slowly maneuvered until he was straddling Axel's lap. Roxas's fingers curled in the fine hairs at the nape of the other man's neck, tilted his head back as the barista smirked and pried Axel's mouth open with the pointer finger of his free hand. He leaned forward until their lips were just barely touching then, finally, breathed out – a smooth, slow breeze of smoke.

Axel inhaled, and waited only long enough for the nicotine to hit his blood before he hastily exhaled and grabbed the back of Roxas's neck, pulling him close enough for a proper kiss. The boy laughed as their tongues swept against each other, but made no move to pull away, and in fact responded to Axel's efforts eagerly.

When they finally broke for more than a sneaking gasp of air, Roxas rolled his bruised lip between his teeth and, with no discernable expression, said, "Your place. I don't want you to be able to leave this time."

Laughing, Axel nodded and the two of them stood. He did not ask questions when Roxas's hand slipped into his own – nor did he ask (or worry) about the fact that the blonde was abandoning his post at Sanctuary. He simply enjoyed the anticipation of the silence that hung between them as they walked to his car and as they drove to his apartment, Roxas's hand on his knee.

Inside, they stumbled to the couch, struggled with buttons and zippers, and were together once again. The first time, last night, had been – as far as Axel cared to recall – reckless and desperate. Now, they fit together smoothly, worked laughingly past small fumbles and awkward noises. And after, they curled into each other, murmured drowsy teases, and slept.

He was not very surprised when he woke up the next morning to find that Roxas had left. Axel only laughed, then walked to the kitchen to pour himself a bowl of cereal. His lighthearted mood did not prevent him, however, from craving Johnnie Walker. Not to mention a cigarette.

The early spring air was still cool enough to bite at his cheeks and nose, so he downed some scotch and started the walk to the nearest corner store with that warm, alcoholic buzz in his veins. He thought about Roxas nearly the whole way. About the way Roxas's hair felt between his fingers, the way Roxas's lower lip felt between his teeth. He had to stop himself from continuing this train of thought before it led to some rather inconvenient circumstances.

When he reached the store and the cashier told him how much a pack of American Spirits cost, Axel laughed.

"Bastard," he muttered. It had been directed at Roxas, but the clerk gave him a dirty look and so Axel laughed again as he walked out the door. On the way home he enjoyed his first cigarette – in entirety –in almost three years. He could not count how many he had started smoking then crushed out after two or three puffs when the thought occurred to him that perhaps it was the smoking that made him such a horrible person.

But he had to admit, as he retraced his steps back to his apartment and recalled the way Roxas's smoke-filled breath had billowed in his own lungs, that it was while smoking that he enjoyed life most. Maybe it was because the scent and the taste brought him back to high school summers spent driving fast down long highways, windows down, music high, and going nowhere. Or, maybe – more likely – it was because he'd never quite beaten the nicotine addiction.

It wasn't until he'd arrived home, finished another drink, and lit another cigarette that Axel made two discoveries.

The first: Roxas had forgotten his cell phone. Axel had found it peeking out from beneath the couch, where it had undoubtedly been dropped and kicked, after the hurried removal of their pants. Smirking, the red-head used it to dial his own number, and then saved Roxas's in his phone.

After formulating a plan to return to Sanctuary for the third time in as many days, Axel had his next epiphany.

It followed a particularly enjoyable drag of his cigarette. The first cigarette had only left Axel's nerves jumping for a second, and the second had left his throat feeling dry and swollen. It wasn't uncommon, he remembered, swirling his tongue in his mouth to coat it with saliva and soak up the remaining taste of tobacco.

And then there it was, echoing in his mind as if it were being said aloud that very moment; a memory of Sora complaining about the way smoke lingered in Axel's mouth, about how very much he hated the taste of it. Sora had been the reason Axel had quit smoking in the first place.

Immediately, he thought to smoke the rest of his pack and go out and buy another, just to spite Sora. In practice, he only managed to power halfway through before he started to feel sick and curled up with a glass of water, cursing his ex's name.

Axel furrowed his brows as he realized it was the first time he had thought of Sora since the brunette had walked in to the coffee shop the night before. Despite their physical similarities, Roxas had prevented all thought of Axel's ex-boyfriend. During sex, Axel usually found it difficult not to recall Sora; his hands, his pert little mouth. In fact, last night was likely the first time he had not made any comparisons to Sora, had not made requests that would render his current lover's technique more akin to Sora's.

The realization was not as momentous as he had hoped it would be.

"You forgot your cell-phone," Axel said with a smirk as he pushed the device across the counter, into Roxas's waiting hand.

"Did I?" the blonde asked, shrugging as he tucked it into his back pocket. There was a small smile on his lips.

The other man looked around. The café was crowded; he'd decided not to wait until nightfall this time. It was a decision he now regretted. There was a very slim chance of scoring a back-alley make-out session this time.

"Yeah," he chuckled. "I'll call you sometime," he continued with a wink.

Roxas let out a hearty laugh, startling his coworker – a blonde girl that Axel had not seen there before. As he left, he thought again of Sora, and decided that Roxas had been a fool to let his guard down.

Really, they both had.