A/N: Just a reminder that this fic is part of a multi-writer collaboration. Be sure to check out apiegohome and nicayal's contributions, On Edge and The Tanchozuru! They're both stellar writers!
Waiting at the Boards
Part Four
Sectionals.
Larxene had been right. The crowd was at least double what he'd seen at regionals. Axel was still getting used to it, but this time it bothered him a lot less than the sticky shell of hair gel he'd used to slick his hair back. He'd spent half the day already resisting the urge to push back nonexistent, errant strands. It had seemed appropriate, a sleek, streamlined look, but after looking around at his competitors, he realized perhaps he'd overdone it.
At least he hadn't overdone his costume. There was an abundance of glitter and rhinestones almost everywhere he looked. Even if he had been able to afford one of those fancy get-ups, they were far too extravagant for his tastes. He much preferred the stark black, the way it contrasted with the white of the ice and the red of his hair. It made more of a statement than sparkly leotards. At least, that's how Axel saw it. He chuckled to himself, imagining a separate competition for blinding the judges in reflected light.
Between Larxene's drills, and Axel becoming more confident in the face of a large audience, he's skated clean, landing his jumps smartly, and his elements overall were better than when he'd skated at regionals. Still, he hadn't quite managed to add any kind of flair to his program, and it was reflected in his score. He wasn't sure how to incorporate it, or exactly what was missing. Was it in the arm movements? Was there a rhythm in the music he hadn't matched?
Whatever it was he was missing, he was pretty sure the top three to place had it. All of them he recognized from the videos Larxene had given him, that he'd reviewed over and over. Riku Asahi, the favorite to win nationals, Seifer Almasy, and Roxas Strife. Axel had leaned against the boards after his program, watching them. Trying to figure it out.
He hadn't done too poorly. When all was said and done, he'd placed fifth overall, not bad considering the competition was stronger than it had been at regionals. It wasn't enough to qualify him for nationals, he'd been shy by just a few points, but he counted it as a win, anyway. The others close to him in scores had skated cleanly, too, not fumbling the way the competition at regionals had, so it was a placement he'd earned.
Xion and Demyx beamed and hollered at him from their place in the bleachers, grinning like a couple of idiots. Larxene even gave him a grudging pat on the back for skating such a smooth program, before grunting about the work he had cut out for him for the next season.
The next season. Axel grinned to himself as he unlaced his skates and stowed them in his duffel. With almost a full year ahead to polish off his skills, he was bound to do well next time; he was confident he would make it to nationals on the second attempt. Not to mention the summer competitions Larxene had lined up for him.
It was so thrilling!
Back in his street clothes, he slung his bag over his shoulder and strolled back out to his waiting friends. Xion nearly knocked the wind out of him as she collided with him in a hug. "You did so good! I'm so proud of you, my prodigy!"
Axel laughed. "Your prodigy? Since when?"
Xion smiled up at him. "Since I taught you how to do an axel!"
Demyx and Axel snorted. "You know she's partly right," Demyx quipped.
Axel squeezed Xion back and ruffled her hair. "Yeah, I'll give it to you. Xion's the real winner, here."
"Yeah, go ahead, ignore me." Larxene was giving them a dark look as she strolled up to them. "Not like I had anything to do with it."
Axel rolled his eyes. "You had everything to do with making me miserable."
Demyx interjected. "Come on guys! Let's go celebrate!" He stretched his hand dramatically in the air. "Let's think about the future, not the past."
Larxene raised an eyebrow. "Fine. Pack it up, kids, we'll go celebrate." She made up for Demyx's extra enthusiasm with a monotone voice and deadpan expression.
They were at the doors, shrugging on their coats, when Axel realized he'd left his track jacket in one of the changing areas in all the commotion.
"I'll be right back!" he called, waving as he headed to the changing area. He slowed as he reached the corridor, frowning. The complex hosting sectionals was bigger, better-equipped than their home rink, and consequently, it was harder to remember where exactly he'd left his jacket. He remembered hanging it on a hook in a bathroom, but…he peered into changing areas, trying to locate it.
He was sure he had the right one, a little further in, and stepped in to search the bathroom, only to be stopped short by the person occupying it.
Swan Lake Strife. Roxas was recognizable by his costume alone, a gaudy, skin-tight black and white get-up encrusted with what was probably a small fortune of rhinestones—maybe even Swarovski crystals, by the way they caught the light. He was leaning over the sink, his back to Axel, and Axel couldn't help but look. Roxas had unclasped the collar of his costume, leaving the line of his throat bare and enticing. And the way he was bent over the sink…Axel bit the inside of his cheek, hard. Stared at the lean muscles of Roxas's legs, and the pert rear practically presented to him.
He'd spent so much time staring at men over the course of the last month, Roxas in particular, and not just for the purpose of studying their programs.
Roxas shifted, and Axel's eyes snapped up, searching for a safe place to look. They landed on the blue eyes in the mirror, Roxas's gaze locking on him. There was an awkward silence, Axel still reeling himself in from what had quickly been turning into a fantasy, and Roxas staring at him, eyes wide.
"Sorry." Axel raised an hand to brush back his hair, then remembered it was still sticky with gel. Roxas's eyes followed the movement, or maybe that was Axel's imagination. "I thought I might've left something in here. Do you… uh, mind?" He gestured at the bathroom stall that had been his initial objective, and Roxas blinked at him, as if startled out of a reverie. Then, without a word, he sidestepped Axel, brushing past him to head back into the changing area.
Axel gave the bathroom a more thorough examination than was probably necessary, trying to shake the illicit thoughts from his mind. Roxas was…damn, he was so much hotter in person, though. And, a very talented skater. It was almost an afterthought, that.
Roxas was bent over, relacing his skates on a bench, when Axel emerged from the bathroom. Axel steeled himself, thinking this was a chance perhaps to learn about what was missing from his program. No ulterior motives. Nope. "Guess I had the wrong room. They all look the same from the outside, ya know?"
Roxas spared him a glance, and turned his attention to lacing the second skate. Maybe he was shy.
Axel tried again. "I saw your freeskate. Wasn't really my style, in all honesty, but you sure were on today." Roxas, for all that he came from money, and skated practically by the books, was talented. He had something that Axel didn't, something that didn't have to do with money.
The low "Thanks," was the first word Roxas spoke to him.
"By the way, I'm Axel. I competed in an earlier group." Axel winced at how awkward it came out.
Roxas sighed and straightened, finally giving Axel his full attention. "I know who you are."
Axel's mouth opened in a small 'oh.' "You do?"
Roxas nodded. "Axel Cendres. Third at Central Pacific Regionals."
"Right." Axel blinked; he hadn't thought he'd garnered much attention with his performance at regionals. But apparently Roxas had noticed him. He gave a lopsided grin. "Good memory."
Roxas leaned forward again, fiddling with the jeweled ankle of his costume.
"Hey, so…" He stepped closer, trying to get a better read on Roxas. "Since you've got all the turns and artsy-fartsy stuff down, I was wondering if you had any tips." Roxas looked up, face slightly flushed from being bent over his skates.
"Tips…" What was that flat tone?
Axel fumbled. "Yeah, you know…" Axel tucked his hands into his pockets, trying not to show how awkward he was suddenly feeling.
This…was not how he'd hoped the conversation would go. No reaction from Roxas, either to betray any kind of attraction, or to offer any friendly advice. Axel looked down at Roxas's laced skates, then glanced back up.
"You know," he tried again, "like how to make your program match the music so the crowd really gets into it. That kind of stuff."
Roxas let out a derisive noise a moment before a light rap on the door sounded, announcing the presence of a brown-haired girl. "There you are. Terra's looking for you. He said to let you know the photographer's upstairs."
Roxas stood, ran a hand through his hair, and then smoothed his costume. Axel watched the movement, the way it deliberately brought attention to the lines of his body. "Okay, coming." He practically ignored Axel as he passed him to hug the girl, and Axel found himself feeling more than a little foolish for his non-existent ulterior motives.
Roxas's parting comment was even worse, called over his shoulder on the way out. A veritable snub. "Here's a tip," he offered, "It's called artistry, and takes literal years to master."
Axel stared at the door that Roxas had disappeared through, sputtering. "Well, it was nice to meet you, too," he muttered at last. He moved brought his hand to his hair, and realized too late that he'd already forgotten about the product gunking it up. With a huff of frustration, he turned on his heel and returned to the bathroom sink to wash his hands.
He replayed the encounter in his mind as he resumed the search for his jacket, checking the other rooms. He'd thought at first that maybe the guy was shy, with the way he'd hesitated to talk to him, maybe even that there was a hint of attraction there in the flush of his cheeks. And then that. Was that chick his girlfriend?
Either way. Swan Lake had cast the first stone, and if there was one thing Axel was good at (aside from skating), it was giving back as good as he got in a verbal contest.
He couldn't wait to see Roxas again. He had a feeling he would, and he already saw fun times ahead, there. Maybe not the fun times he'd been hoping for, but it had been a slim hope to begin with.
Jacket in hand, and mouth set in a grin, he made his way back to his group.
o.O.o
A year had passed since Axel had placed fifth at sectionals. He'd had his chance to compete with Roxas again, over the summer. He'd beat him, a few times, and done his damnedest to get under Roxas's skin. He'd succeeded, a victory he was as proud of as his placement at this year's sectionals. Second, with a ticket to nationals, and, to top it off…
The kiss.
Roxas's immaculate, on-ice persona was a stark contrast to the way he acted once he'd stepped off the ice and away from the public eye. The sharp wit, sarcasm, and irritability made Axel grin, and added an extra layer of fun to the rivalry that had sprung up between them. Axel enjoyed his company, and had wondered more and more if Roxas did, too.
Roxas certainly enjoyed kiss, if his delayed enthusiasm was any indication.
"I still can't believe you kissed Swan Lake," Demyx muttered, handing Axel a bottle of beer.
"I want to do more than kiss him." Axel followed Demyx up the stairs and down the hall to his friend's room.
"Oh, I think I know exactly what you want to do with him." Demyx clicked his door shut behind them, turning the lock, and they slouched side by side on Demyx's bed.
Axel raised an eyebrow. "You offering to do it instead?"
Demyx shrugged. "Sure, why not? Wouldn't be the first time."
Axel nodded, then hissed as Demyx's hand pressed against his groin. Axel couldn't help but imagine a smaller hand working its way into his pants, the head leaning against his shoulder a lighter shade of blond.
"By the way, Mom and Dad were pretty stoked about you qualifying for nationals."
"Mm." Axel was having a little trouble concentrating on Demyx's words with a hand down his pants, but his friend continued.
"They're already planning to use it to benefit the rink. I guess they reached out to some big coaches about throwing a charity event. You know, get some big shot skaters like little Swan Lake to put on a show, raise a little money."
Axel somehow managed to make his breathy laugh derisive. "Roxy would get a kick out of that, I'm sure."
"Even if he didn't show up. He's just one guy, you know? There's a bunch of nicer people willing to help out. And the rink really needs the money. I'm surprised the roof hasn't caved in. Patching it bit by bit doesn't do anything, you know?"
"Dem," Axel gritted, "shut up."
Demyx turned and kissed his cheek. "I bet you'd like it if Roxas was chatty," he teased.
"Maybe I'd gag him," Axel grunted.
Demyx laughed. "If you could. From what I've seen, he'd fight back."
And the thought of that, coupled with Demyx's warm grip, sent Axel over the edge with a small moan. "Fuck you," Axel muttered, once he'd caught his breath.
He saw Demyx stick his tongue out from the corner of his eye.
Axel blinked, trying to form coherent thoughts again. "So this charity event."
"Oh, now you want to hear about it?" Demyx gave a lopsided smile.
Axel cuffed his friend. "I was distracted!"
"Mn, I guess." Demyx's smile widened. "It'll be like an exhibition, right? Get some names to come in—it really helps that you qualified for nationals—and bring in a crowd. Then, you know, cost of admission and donations."
"Sounds fun. You think it'll work?"
Demyx shrugged. "We can only hope."
