I apologize for the delay! Transition chapters are a bit harder to write than the rest, aren't they? Also, as the disclaimer, I don't own anything, but I think that goes without saying.
Roxas sat gloomily on the stoop with Olette and Pence at his sides. Hayner sat on the wide rail, half standing on the step below them. They all moped under the heat of the sun. It was almost summer, but no one wanted to study for finals. Not without ice cream. They would always get ice cream after school. Even in college, the tradition continued. The problem with that was. . .
". . . So why do you think the ice cream truck hasn't been coming these past few days?" Olette asked, breaking the silence, only to be shot with blank stares.
"I don't know, but we should go to the convenience store again." Hayner said, starting to get up. He gave a meaningful look to Roxas, wondering if he minded.
Roxas shrugged. It didn't really matter now. He couldn't get away from Axel, anyway, so why try?
"The grocery store ice cream is expensive." Pence noted. They all nodded. "You think the ice cream man is sick?"
"That's silly. They would just send another one." Olette said, yawning. The sun made her tired.
Hayner looked at her, "Actually, I think it's a one-man gig. Well. . . I mean, it's not a Mr. Softie truck. I think he runs it himself."
"Poor guy . . . that must be why he always looks so miserable." They all nodded. . . except for Roxas.
"Miserable, huh . . . I don't really remember." Roxas examined a crack in the steps.
"I don't understand how anyone so handsome could be so unhappy." Olette decided.
Hayner laughed, "I know I'd be miserable if I had to wear that dorky hat."
Roxas wrinkled his eyebrows, trying to remember, "Does he have blond hair?"
Pence nodded, "Yeah. Actually, he kind of looks like you, Roxas."
The gears were turning. Roxas widened his eyes, shooting himself straight up where he sat.
"That guy's in my history class!" Roxas fumbled in his pocket for the piece of plastic, "I've been trying to give this ID back to him, but he always comes in late and leaves before I have the chance."
Hayner peered over Roxas's shoulder to see the card.
"Cloud Strife, huh? That's him, alright." He verified. "Hey, but aren't you supposed to give it to the police if you find someone's driver's license?"
Roxas looked up, ". . . driver's license?"
"Hell yeah, Roxas. Haven't you ever seen one before?" Hayner was taken aback.
"Well, no. Not really. And it looked a lot like our school ID . . . I thought since he was an upperclassman . . ."
Pence looked up, "You have our ice cream man's driver's license! How's he supposed to drive the ice cream truck?"
Roxas felt as if a billboard with those words on it had been hurdled at his back and cracked over his head. If the ice cream man had come the other day, they wouldn't have gone to the grocery store. If they hadn't gone to the grocery store, he wouldn't have seen Axel. And because he had Cloud's license, it was ALL HIS FAULT. He brought his hands to his head.
"Don't feel bad, Roxas. You could call him or something. . . and hey, it even has his address. Isn't that nifty?" Olette consoled.
"Yeah, just make sure he doesn't think you're hitting on him, because he looks like he swings your way," Olette stomped on Hayner's foot. There was a cry of pain.
Roxas peeled his hands off his face. Maybe this is what they mean when they say 'what goes around comes around'? . . . He could sure use one of those ice creams right about now.
---xxxx----
"Mike check. . ." Demyx tapped on the microphone, but it still wasn't working. ". . . You want me to keep talking!" He yelled back to the sound crew, adjusting his guitar slung around his shoulders so that it leaned out of his way. His band members were in the background talking, since they couldn't practice while they were setting up the mikes. So instead, they were drinking coffee. That's what they ran on, pretty much; like gasoline to a car.
Demyx had already had his. However, unless it was Demyx's turn to buy, no one ever brought him anything caffienated. Lucky for them, he hadn't noticed yet.
"Yeah! Keep talking! Just say anything! Tell me about your day!" A distant voice shouted from the back of the concert hall in the sound booth.
"Well okay. Let's see. I woke up this morning when I fell off the couch. Actually, it probably wasn't the falling part that woke me up, because I wasn't very close to the couch at all. I must've been---oh!" Demyx was surprised as his voice boomed from the speakers. He waved to the man in the back, "It's working!"
Suddenly Demyx felt a light tap from behind. A deep voice spoke, "Don't look now, but here he comes."
Demyx turned to look at the opening door and then briefly nodded thanks to his band-mate before scurrying backstage. As soon as he was behind the black velvet curtain, Demyx peeked out to watch the scene.
Luxord strode up over by the drum set on stage with a hand in his pocket. The bearded manager spoke to a couple people hanging around and as a finger was pointed towards Demyx's curtain, the dirty blonde ducked behind in the delusion that his hiding there went unnoticed. He peered back out, and Luxord had turned away. With a look of disappointment, the manager prepared to leave. And then he did.
Demyx let his breath out, hand over his heart.
Marluxia approached their lead singer as he left his curtain.
"You can't keep avoiding him forever. He is our manager, you know." The deep voice advised. A head of spiky hair looked down on Demyx condescendingly.
"I know, I know!" Demyx assured him, hands expressive, "Did he ask about me? Did he see me? Please say no . . ."
". . . no." Marluxia said without hesitation, starting to drift gracefully away.
Demyx caught him by the shoulder, "Come on, I didn't mean it like that. Did he really not ask about me . . .? I mean you wouldn't lie to a friend." He smiled winningly, "We're friends, right?"
The drummer considered this.
" . . . no. I don't think so."
Demyx slumped in defeat as his band-mate walked away to join the others. He wondered where he went wrong with that guy. He got along fine with everyone else. . . and for Marluxia of all people to know about him and Luxord. . . Demyx scratched his finely styled head. There was some trouble brewing, there.
Someone in the sound crew saw Demyx slipping away.
"Hey! Where're you going?" The nameless black shirt asked.
"Uh. . ." Demyx turned around, jogging nervously in place. He waved, "Bathroom! I'll be back in a sec!"
Demyx skittered off towards what seemed to be the way to the bathroom, but stayed in the hall. He flipped out his cell phone and dialed the only (speed-dial) number that could possibly make him feel better right now.
It rang twice . . . then was picked up.
"Okay, what is it?" The voice sighed.
"Axel! I have to tell you something that I didn't tell you before because I need your advice," Demyx clutched the phone with both hands to his ear, because it made him feel more secretive.
"Yes?"
"Okay, so I know I didn't tell you everything about everything, but I need your help, now, because I need to get out of this rehearsal without seeing my manager."
"Why?"
"Because he dumped me."
"I thought you said you BROKE. UP." Axel mocked.
"T-that's what I meant!" Demyx tried to save himself.
"But wow . . . " There was a sound that sounded like Axel stifling a laugh. "You know what I'd like to know: at what point did you say 'hey, you know what's a great idea? Dating my manager.' Especially since all your other relationships crash and burn."
Demyx didn't say anything, and glared at the phone.
". . . But go on. . ."Axel encouragedbrightly.
Demyx sighed, ". . .So he came to the sound check, which he never does. I'm afraid he's going to fire us or cancel our performance and put in some other band because of me."
"I wouldn't worry about it." Axel said.
"Really?" Demyx asked.
"Yeah. I'm sure your manager loves money more than he hates you."
"You really think so?" Demyx said hopefully.
"I'm positive. He was probably just coming to wish you good luck." Axel said, sounding only half-convincing, but Demyx bought it completely.
"Gee, thanks so much. I always feel better after talking to you."
"I aim to please. Hey, how old 's your manager, anyway?" Axel asked innocently.
"Axel. . ." Demyx growled.
"Sorry. Got to go. Laundry's done." Axel hung up.
----xxxx----
Roxas had six shiny quarters. He'd gone through a lot of pain to dig them out of pants pockets and other places quarters had a habit of hiding. Six shiny quarters was just enough to do laundry. No more. No less.
Roxas let his head fall onto the top of the laundry machine in defeat, as it silently mocked him.
It had seemed like a harmless, harmless laundry machine in the basement of his new apartment building, but apparently it had an appetite for shiny quarters. And now Roxas' detergent-soaked clothes were stuck in a laundry machine that didn't work in a room full of running washers, quarter-less, while he used his forehead to caress the top of the cold metal with his self-pity.
Roxas immediately identified this as a bad omen. Something very bad was about to happen.
And then it did.
"Hey Roxas." Axel walked in to the laundry room, heading towards one of the washing machines. Roxas picked his head up conscientiously, tongue-tied. "What, the machine eat your quarters?"
It was like he KNEW. He was psychic, so he must be evil. An evil EVIL person who likes. . . . doing laundry in other people's apartment buildings? In the context of laundry, it didn't seem so evil, he supposed. But the evil was still there beyond the drier sheets. He would not be fooled!
"Axel, I'm going to ask you a question." Roxas said, teeth gritted.
Axel lifted a handful of wet laundry to transfer it to the drier, "Shoot." He said, skillfully prying the drier door with his ankle.
". . . Are you STALKING me?"
"ha! Like I would. I always do my laundry here."
"But you don't LIVE here."
"Details, details. . ." Axel added more of his clothes to the drier.
"Well, just because your apartment building doesn't have a laundry room doesn't mean that this one is fair game. I'll report you!" Roxas threatened.
"There's just one itsy-bitsy problem. . ." Axel closed in, looming over Roxas ". . . with that logic. See, I've been doing laundry here for four years and know everyone in this building. That includes your landlord. I doubt they'd have much to say about it."
". . ." Roxas looked away angrily, falling back to lean on his washing machine and crossing his arms, "Do as you please."
"Thank you. I will." Axel gave him a mock bow before turning his attention back to the drier. He inserted two coins into the slot and pressed the 'start' button. He turned to Roxas and then back, "You know, you could use my washer now." He suggested.
"I know." Roxas said, arms still crossed. Axel smirked.
"But. . . you're angry with me."
"I was waiting for you to leave." Logical enough, if it weren't that his quarters had been eaten, and he couldn't start a cycle even if he wanted to. Somehow the redhead's psychic powers picked up the distress signal.
Axel sighed, pulling up his sleeves, "Alright. Move over."
"What?"
"There's a trick to this stupid coin thing. So move over and let me HELP you."
Roxas stood his ground in front of the machine, "Why would you help me? I mean, all you've done so far it seems is try to ruin my life and. . ."
"Whoa! Hold it!" Axel poked a finger in Roxas' shoulder defensively, "Are we back to the whole gay thing? Because that was for your own good."
Roxas clenched his fists, "How the hell do you know what's good for me! Why the hell do you care!" He pushed Axel away, guarding the machine with his body.
"You're right!" Axel slammed a hand down on one of the machines, "I'm a heartless bastard and I want to ruin your life. Is that what you want to hear!"
Roxas looked shocked, "Well it's better than you seducing me by pretending to be the nice guy!" He said angrily. He didn't really mean it, but the immediate effects of his words were obvious. Axel hadn't seemed to be the type who would be so easily injured that way, but the awkward silence and serious face said more than he wanted it to. Suddenly Axel had become a different person. Like a cold fire had washed over his face.
This time when Axel smiled, he was afraid.
". . . w-what?" Roxas swallowed.
"You're right. That nice guy act---" Axel smirked in angry sarcasm, "--- That wasn't me at all." He grabbed Roxas' wrist, and the blonde half expected it to feel like ice. Axel jerked him forward until they were close together.
"Y-you're joking. Right?" Roxas wanted the other Axel back. He wished that he would stop this. It was scaring him.
"Hmm. . ." Axel's eyes suddenly flowed back with warmth, "Yeah, I am." He grinned and let go.
Roxas' wrist was released, but he had become unstable all of a sudden. Stunned, in short. He stumbled back. Just . . . joking? "C-could you be any less . . . aggravating!"
"I'll be as aggravating as I need to be," Axel knelt down to unplug the washer and then plug it back in. He fiddled with it a bit.
Roxas looked down with a small voice, "I. . . didn't really mean what I said."
"What, the part about me being an unfeeling bastard, or the part about pretending to be nice so that I could get in your pants?" Axel retorted sharply as he raised himself up from fixing the plug.
"I didn't say it like that." The blonde's voice protested. He could tell he'd hit a sensitive spot.
"Yeah, well. . ." the redhead ignored him and motioned towards the washing machine, "So why don't you give it a good smack?"
". . . What?"
"The machine. That's the trick. Well, after you fix the plug, anyway." Axel shrugged, "Go ahead. Smack it."
Roxas looked at the floor, feeling terribly guilty, now.
"Don't look like that. I know you WANT to. Who doesn't want to give a laundry machine a good smack? Just pretend it's me!" He encouraged, waving his hands around like a lunatic, trying to get some sort of reaction out of the younger boy. "Well!" he gave Roxas a pat on the back towards the machine.
"I'm sorry." Roxas conceded.
Axel raised his eyebrows and waited a second to register this information. "Che, forget it." In afterthought he looked up and away, smiling suddenly, "But for the record . . . I'm sorry, too."
Roxas' eyes suddenly lit up and he smiled warmly up at Axel. The redhead looked out of the corner of his eye, and jerked his head back in surprise, a blush crossing his face.
Wtf? The kid could smile? No one had told him that! Did he have any idea the affect that sweetness could have directed at a normal person! This was completely different from a Demyx smile, or anything else Axel had ever seen. Had he been any closer when he'd dropped that bomb . . . well. . . Axel wasn't sure what would've happened. Meteors could have hit the earth, pigs might've flown temporarily . . . What really scared him was that Axel didn't know how he was supposed to say NO to a smile like that. Good thing he wasn't uh. . . attracted to him? Axel thought this while sweating profusely. On the other end, he was positive Roxas was unaware of his secret weapon. Axel regained his composure, keeping a safe distance.
He cleared his throat, "Ahem. So you gonna kick the washing machine or what?" Stop smiling. Stop smiling. Stop it, dammnit!
"Oh. Right!" Roxas turned his normal expression over to the machine. Axel exhaled in relief as the blonde gave that thing one good thwack with the sole of his shoe.
It was silent a second, and then they heard a low hum that grew louder.
"It's working." Roxas looked surprised.
Axel snickered, "Of course it's working."
"I didn't believe you." He admitted.
"Yep. Well. Just another lesson in learning to trust your elders." Axel grinned and put a hand on Roxas' head, messing his hair up just a little bit. No one would know the difference.
"Hey!" Roxas protested, putting his hands on his head protectively as Axel pulled away.
"I'm gonna head back to my building. The drier runs awhile." The older one announced.
"Oh." The blonde didn't mean to sound disappointed, "Okay."
Axel turned around at his tone, shrugging, "You're welcome to join me. It's not like I'm doing anything while my laundry's in the drier."
"What? In your apartment?" his back prickled as Roxas suddenly remembered whom he was addressing. Had Axel asked about ten minutes ago, he would have come up with something nasty to say about that, but maybe the guy really wasn't the creep he seemed to be. . .
No. He was still evil----but a more benign evil that wouldn't really hurt him in small doses. (Secondhand smoke, for instance.)
"Sorry. I mean, I think I'll stay here."
"Wait. In the. . . laundry room." Axel looked amused.
Roxas nodded vigorously, biting his lip to urge on his sincerity in trying not to look like he wanted to. Even though he did. Saying 'yes' would be sending the wrong message.
"Right. . ." Axel left.
And Roxas stayed. There was a nice chair in the laundry room. It made him feel uneasy to leave his clothes unoccupied, at least just for the first time, so he sat and thought about their conversation, looking at his watch every couple of minutes.
10 minutes.
20 minutes.
Roxas tapped his foot nervously.
He watched as people came and left, usually taking no notice of him sitting in the corner. There was a stoic guy with blond hair on the longer side who measured out several different detergents and combined them, leaving the lid open as watched the washer fill, and taking notes like it was a science experiment. Another older man with a few piercings tried to trick the laundry machine by jerking a quarter on a string . . . and failed. Roxas decided the people in his apartment were strange.
Suddenly a familiar face peered around the edge of the doorway, and Roxas looked up from his watch.
"Axel? Why are you here? Your clothes aren't done yet."
"Oh, I know. I came here to see you, really. I really can't believe you're actually waiting in the laundry room." He grinned, striding in. "Your clothes are just about done, aren't they?"
Suddenly the rumbling to Roxas' machine stopped.
Roxas panned slowly from the machine to the grinning face. Could this guy be any more of a stalker? Okay, calm down, it's harmless stalking, right? He just came to see you. . . transfer your laundry to the drier?
"haha. So they are . . . " Roxas said nervously, getting up from his chair. He looked over his shoulder at his stalker suspiciously as he lifted the lid to take his clothes out.
He lifted a heap into the air.
"Aha!" Axel smirked.
"W-what?" Roxas stuttered, afraid as he dumped the pile into an empty drier.
"You DO wear briefs. But I see some boxers in there, too." he snickered, pulling himself up to sit on top of a moving machine. It was like a free massage! In Axel's opinion, anyone who hasn't tried it has been missing out.
"Is that what you came to see!" Roxas asked, dumbfounded as he picked up another armful of wet laundry.
". . . maybe. Oh, hey! You listen to DHMO?" Axel pointed out a logo on a shirt the blonde was carrying.
"Uh. Yeah." Roxas said, still busy transferring, "You know them?"
". . . You could say that." Axel laughed on the inside, "Hey, if you want I probably have some tickets to their concert tomorrow. I'm usually stuck with some of the extras because they want all the seats filled. Have any interest?"
Roxas nearly fell over and spilled his clean clothes, "You mean DHMO's performing here in town! And you have tickets! You're joking!"
"Actually, this time, I'm not. I could even get you an exclusive dinner with the lead singer afterwards." Axel grinned, adding, "We'll order out Chinese."
That last comment seemed to escape Roxas as he was too busy getting over the shock of the possibility of actually being able to go to one of their concerts. It was amazing! A dream come true! And to actually be able to meet Demyx . . .!
"I---- That's too much! I couldn't possibly accept such an offer without giving you something in return!" Roxas became serious.
"Eh, I wouldn't mind you buying me dinner sometime." Axel shrugged. "But you don't really owe me anything. I mean the tickets are free . . ."
"Really?" Roxas asked, becoming a puddle of joy.
"Yeah, sure. Concert's at 10 pm tomorrow. I'll give you a shout around 9:00." Axel slipped off the washing machine, feeling thoroughly massaged.
"Thank you!" The blonde spurted enthusiastically after Axel as he left the room, and it left both of them with a kind of fuzzy feeling. Roxas was feeling fuzzy because he was finally going to be able to meet his idol, and Axel because he realized in that very moment that the reason he was suddenly so happy was actually Roxas' happiness. Not because he was the one who made him happy--- just that he was. And that he had a pair of underwear with pink sailboats on them. That made him happy too, in a sadistic sort of way.
Axel smiled as soon as he exited the doorway. But to be truly happy for someone else's happiness----It was possibly the first time that had ever happened to him before.
A/N: Thanks! You're all lovely! I love reading your comments! I'll try and get the next chapter out a bit faster for you this time. I hope you'll look forward to it!