Straitjacket

Cloud leans back against the large bed's headboard. I feel surprisingly conservative and unnerved around him. He's a very unobtrusive guy from what I have seen. Maybe losing your parents does that to you? Nah, that can't be it; I was perfectly fine after losing mine.

Yep…I've been perfectly fine…

"So Cloud…" I begin shakily, quickly adding, "I mean… I can call you Cloud, right?"

I'm losing my balls right here in front of the person I nearly killed. He should be dead. And I am scared shitless of him. I don't want him to know, so I try to keep it casual by seating myself next to him in a… comfortable gesture.

Cloud shrugs. "It is my name. I don't see why not. Why, is something wrong with calling me Cloud?"

I elect not to tell him his first name makes him sound gay, but his last name is boss. I elect not to tell him that his name parting from my lips makes me want to kill myself. I elect not to tell him that I'm going to go home tonight and burn shit something awful.

"Nope, not at all bro. I was just wondering… How did you take it when they died?" I ask cautiously, folding my arms behind my head and lying down next to him on the bed. He's still sitting up and looks down at me.

Cloud sighs deeply and tilts his head back to stare at the ceiling, concluding that it is far more comfortable to be laying the same way I am and copies me. His eyes glaze over. I take it the thoughts are stirring up in his mind. I never did know if he was there the night of the fire.

"At first I was really depressed. I had not been there the night of the fire; I was over my friend Zack's house. I found about it the next morning." He presses his lips together. "I can hardly remember the next year. People tell me I never said a single word and it scared them to death. Some doctors thought I would never talk again. I think I thought I could never say a worthwhile word again. One day Zack completely pulled me out of it though… Somehow he managed to make me so annoyed that I yelled right in his face. He was completely content with that reaction, too." He smiles at the fondness of the memory.

My heart sinks low into my stomach. I am such a bastard.

"Eventually Zack moved away and I went back to not talking to anyone until my cousin came back from a summer at boarding school to live with my aunt, uncle, and me," Cloud explains. He snaps his fingers and smiles. "You met him, right?"

My eyebrows shoot up. "I met your cousin?" Funky—I didn't even know he had a cousin. A bass-heavy song comes on downstairs. I can feel it pounding through the floor. I think these kids don't know anything about a real party. (That's coming from me, an eighteen year-old pyromaniac.)

"You met Roxas, didn't you?" Cloud asks me, turning his head to look at me. I see him eyes, sparkling blue eyes hidden for a disappointingly long half-second.

Roxas… Oh damn! I have to meet him later at the nut house. Damn it. I knew I forgot something. And—wait… what?

The most breathtaking person I have ever seen in my entire life is related to Cloud Strife? God, just when I start to think I love you, you make me hate you all over again. You are some twisted masochist, aren't you, buddy? No. You enjoy my pain. You're like a rapist! You enjoy hearing me scream for mercy, make me think I get some, then dump more crap on me. I thought it was bad that Roxas and Cloud knew each other, but they have to be related? That is not even cool. That is not even funny as a twisted joke!

I am going to go home and burn a chipmunk tonight. No lie.

I stutter as I try to affirm that yes, I did meet Roxas. I avoid mentioning the fact he shoved his tongue down my throat, but I mention we met and really hit it off.

"That's good to hear. Roxas never gets along with very many people. He prefers to recluse and not see people. Poor boy has a lot behind him that he refuses to talk about," Cloud's voice trails off. I realize he is falling asleep; his eyes cannot decide whether to stay open or close, but the latter argument is winning.

I sit up and shake his shoulder. "Yo Cloud; man, get up." His eyes shoot open. I think I will hate myself immensely for this later—perhaps even more than I do right now—but I sigh deeply and shove myself off of the bed and walk around to his side. I offer him my shoulder. "Man, let me give you a ride home. You look beat."

Cloud tries to shake his head. It is extremely unconvincing. "I'm fiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiine," he says (also very unconvincingly) with a long yawn. I groan. Why's he have to be so difficult? He's as stubborn as the rope was when I tried to light his house afire.

Bad visual…

I grab his right arm and wrap it around my neck, hoist him up by the waist. I get him on his feet finally and he leans his head on my shoulder. I purposely jolt so he snaps into temporary alertness. "What's your address?"

He mutters rapidly, "6107 Normandie Boulevard, right off of I-12, building C apartment 64. Roxas should answer the door." I mean, he spitfires that. Somehow I catch it all and luckily for him I know exactly where that is since I've been living in the god damn area since birth.

I hike Cloud up on my shoulder because he's slipping off. Somewhere deep down I am seething at myself for even considering doing this, but is it wrong to want to attempt making amends for what you have done? Because I'm so busy holding up a half-dead blonde on my shoulder (who is surprisingly light, by the way) I cannot knock. So I just kick the door one time hard enough that I actually chipped it. Oops. I'll pay him for that later.

About forty seconds later, a familiar blonde- whose hair is looking wilder than the last time I saw him, eyes bluer, face with that adorable just-woke-up look –opens the door. He yelps and slams the door shut.

You're cool, my mind mumbles sarcastically.

The door opens again. I notice Roxas' clothes have been straightened out a bit. His eyes look brighter. So he closed it just so he could look a little better? He's cute.

"Um… Hi," I greet awkwardly, stammering a little. What's wrong with me? Why am I going so out of character? God damn it; Isa would never let me live this down.

"Hey," Roxas says, his sparkling ocean blue eyes meeting lucid emeralds I call mine.

In my mind I shake my head and crack a smile. "I think this is yours," I note, referring to the lighter blonde sleeping on my shoulder.

Roxas sighs upon sight of Cloud and scratches his head. He steps out of the doorway and motions for me to just bring him in. Upon stepping in, I'm immediately impressed with the edgy atmosphere their apartment creates. I set Cloud down on what looks like a very comfortable couch. "Where'd you even find him?" Roxas asks, leaning against the wall.

I turn to him coolly. "A party, actually; he helped me get out of a pretty tough spot."

Roxas appears puzzled in the cutest way I think I've ever seen. Those eyes… they just pierce right into me. They stab my shirt, pin me to a wall, and hold me down so I know I cannot go anywhere without this lovely angel's permission. That doesn't even sound bad. In fact, I like that idea. I like it a lot. Maybe I should stick around this kid. I'd like to learn how he keeps his hair like that. I've been so hot lately my red mop is clingy with the back of my neck.

The awe-inspiring boy before me allows his perfect lips to part in thought. "You found this Cloud at a party?" I shove my hands in my pockets and nod. Roxas sighs. "He tries so hard." I raise an eyebrow like, what? The blonde smiles sadly. "When I met him, he hardly spoke a word. I always try to expose him to my world, little by little. If you can't tell, he's not the partying type."

I snort. There's an understatement.

"Anyway, thanks for bringing him back here." He thanks me in this tiny voice that makes him sound so… innocent. I wonder if this is the same assertive Roxas that shoved me against a wall and almost had his way with me. Is it? I have a hard time imagining him having a twin or a clone. Or what if he is an alien? That would be f-ed. I would be so confused.

"No problem, Roxas."

His face turns bright red. I chuckle to myself. He's just so fucking cute. "You really remembered my name?" he asks, obviously startled.

I blink. "Why would I not? It's not like you shoved me against a wall and made out with me or anything." He blushes harder, but laughs a little. I beam at this. "People tend to remember those things."

"I'll keep that in mind next time I feel like getting your attention," he tells me. There's a next time? I accidentally release a low, deep, malicious growl. Roxas notices and smirks. "I think you should be going now."

I pout. "I'm supposed to meet you in eight hours anyway; why bother sending me home?"

Roxas hangs his head, but I catch his lips twitching into a bemused yet fearless smile. "Both of us need to sleep at some point."

I beam. Kinky thoughts dance in my head, but he doesn't need to know that. I make sure I'm standing directly in front of him and dangerously close with one hand pinned next to his head, trapping him, before I say anything. "So why don't I just sleep with you tonight?" I press my other hand to his stomach, carefully slipping up his baggy white shirt.

The way he holds his own stuns me. His blush is gone. His eyes have been charred and darkened dangerously. He lightly grasps my hand down and pushes it the opposite direction—toward his boxers that I now realize are slung low on his thin hips. (Not as thin as mine, but close.) God, I know we have a rollercoaster relationship, but right now?

I worship you.

"Who's sleeping tonight?" I ask the cornered blonde mischievously, raising an eyebrow. The evil grin that crosses his lips suffices for an answer just fine. Man I love this kid right now.

…Love?

Nah. That shit is so far beyond me. I guess random moments where lust reigns will just have to act as love for me for the rest of my life.

x

"You did what?" my personal therapist-bitch Zexion screeches at me, slamming his book down on the pool's deck. "Axel, I cannot believe you would do something so… so… disturbing!"

I glare. "He's not disturbing. Don't judge just 'cause you can't get any." I lean back in the floating chair's light blue netting and toy with the washing tag on the rim.

Zexion throws a laminated sheet of paper at me. It doesn't go very far, and he actually gets it stuck on the rim of the pool. I laugh at him. He glowers. He has a really nasty look on his face; more nasty than usual maybe. If he could get laid he wouldn't act like he has a stick up his ass. Wait… if he got laid he'd have someone's stick up his ass. Maybe he shouldn't get laid…

But it is fucking great.

"Axel you just met the kid! What in hell's name were you thinking? Oh that's right, you weren't thinking anything because you don't have a brain. You little shit! Seriously, why would anyone risk getting an STD from a two-foot whore when they A- just met them and B- killed their cousin's parents?"

I make sure my glare bores holes in his head. "Do you always have to bring that up, asshole?"

"I'm just saying, Axel; it might be best if you watch yourself with this… this 'Roxas' person you've come to acquaint yourself with. It could be dangerous," Zexion blandly tries to warn me that I am pretty much a hazard to myself.

"Lighting shit on fire is dangerous, but you don't see me bitchin," I remind him, leaping out of the floating chair and swimming over to the random sheet of paper that was an attempt at making me regret my words. Too bad he has no sense of self preservation and when I pick up the paper, I glance over it. "Zex, I didn't know you write poetry!"

His visible eye shoots open. He coolly demands that I should, "give him the paper, bastard." I comply, but think it's cute that he does something other than read and agitate me purposefully.

I scratch my head, walk over to the ladder, and climb out of the pool. Zexion scoots away from me, trying not to get wet. I mess up his hair. He punches me in the leg. I smirk and drop the paper in his lap. I slink to my towel and wrap it around my waist. Atop the railing which my towel had hung on is my EAP lighter. I find myself staring at its shiny surface. I have the sudden urge to light shit on fire. I snatch the lighter and squeeze it tightly in my palm. I ask Zexion if there's any wildlife around here.

"There are probably some squirrels around here. Why do you ask?" he inquires suspiciously. My malicious smirk should do all the talking for me. I turn to look at him, purely for the purpose of him seeing me looking diabolical. "Axel, you wouldn't." I raise an eyebrow. "Axel! Stop being inane. You lowlife twit!"

I drop my towel, exposing my simple black swim shorts to the cool air. I rub my damp, matted hair. Then I casually exit the deck, flicking my lighter while walking.

"Axel!"

I make sure my steps are quiet once I notice a squirrel sitting in the grass, munching on an acorn. My eyes gleam. I know they do. I can feel it. My body wells up in excitement. I keep the top off my old school lighter and sneak silently closer, every barefoot step cutting my feet with twigs and weeds alike. I hate Zexion's backyard sometimes. This is one of those times. When I am about oh let's say four feet away (impressive that I got that close to the damn thing in the first place) I flip the switch on my lighter. A small, warm flame manifests before my eyes. I crouch down to my knees, getting as close to squirrel-level as possible. I inhale deeply, then blow on the flame forcefully. It explodes.

The fire reaches out like a mechanical hand and grips the small brown woodland creature. It ignites immediately. Its fur burns off. Its skin burns. I laugh while it squirms, writhing in pain, rolling around in the grass and catching that afire as well. The squirrel is choking to death on the little puffs of smoke emitting from said flames. I cough once, but nothing major. My eyes burn a little, but I mind not.

Finally, the squirrel stops burning. It lies dead on the ground amidst flames, still burning. It's an invigorating sight. I want to laugh. I want to roar with laughter. I could roar with laughter. It's dead now. It's in a better place.

Suddenly, the fires are doused before they can amount to much more than a bonfire. Zexion has come over and dumped water on it. He glares at me with a glare so nasty it could have ended World War II. I innocently snap my lighter shut and shove it in my pocket. Another day's work is done, right?

That stupid squirrel is in a better place now. I'm in a better mood now.

It's a win-win situation.

Yes, I just killed a squirrel. How do ya like me now, bitches? Aaahahahaha. This was an interesting, twisted, choppy chapter to write. I know it skips around a wee bit, but learn to live with it. This story needs that because it's part of the Axel-Experience. Oh, my friend and I decided that if we were in I would be Axel because I would enjoy something as evil as lighting a squirrel on fire for the fuck of it. I hope you enjoyed this chapter and the new insight on Axey's relationship with Cloud that is forming. I know things are going weird with Roxas right now, but I have a plan. This is literally a part of that plan. It will work. IT WILL WORK.

Reviews are lovely... just sayin'. So review it, fave it, alert it, whatever the hell you wanna do with it. I don't care either way, but it's nice knowing that people are enjoying your work.
Even if you kill squirrels.