Author's Note: Huzzah, hoooooray, I am now officially graduated from high school. Helloooo college, here I come! So, that's why this chapter is a bit later than I would like. Blame my teachers for giving tons of projects and stuff.
-- --
Chapter 4
--
Damn.
That was it. Just damn.
How was it that Axel could actually like Demyx when he was like this? Sure, he loved the cooky blond to death, but sometimes he just ticked him off. But it was mostly when he started getting on his ass about his lifestyle when Axel just had to shut him out. Whether it was with selective hearing or a door between them. But hey, the redhead had grown a sturdy resistance to his best friend since middle school over the years.
Axel usually blamed Demyx's accusations about his so called "flaunting of his sex" on his own lack of someone to tango with. But that dude was a serious romantic and was quite adept at getting into relationships that didn't end up working out in the end. Axel just liked a good dirty fuck, no words exchanged, and no second dips. None of that whole 'let's get to know each other before we get jiggy with it.' It was just sex. No feelings, no emotions… heartless lust and pleasure.
Axel distracted himself with his – big surprise – work for that day, as well as his coffee and bagel. The calls streamed in, riddled with odd questions and a few pranks, and the papers piled up, ready to be recorded and filed.
But there was always something missing in Axel's life. There was something just a little bit off, like a juxtaposition in an art piece, or something just forgotten about in the composition. It was a prince without his sword of truth, if you would care to go into more metaphors. But it was a different thing that was missing in his dreams. No, in that sense, he was on maximum overdrive. It thundered in his chest and sent sparks through his veins. But it felt… wrong, somehow. Like one too many shots in a cup of coffee. Sometimes he just wished to be numb to the overload.
But when he looked at those blue, blue eyes of the intern… there was something in his head screaming a single word and a single need for just more. That's all it said: More.
Axel had been listening to the sound of his own bored voice talking to the most likely than not bitchy people on the other end of the phone line for the past three hours before he had even noticed the time pass. And, lo and behold, it was just about time for his fucking break. Fantastic. Axel punched on the call-redirector on his phone and shoved away from his bureaucratic wooden cage laden with papers still needing to be filed and scraps of papers with scribbled reminders of what he had to do.
The redhead let out a groan before digging around in a drawer and pulling out some change for the vending machine in the break room. Where he might see a certain petit blond who would mess with his already scrambled brain. But Axel had no such luck. The break room was empty and when he got his little bag of cookies, the hollow clatter of its journey down was a lonesome sound. It was nice, however, to be in complete silence for once, without the constant badgering of that damned phone right beside his ear.
But the thunder of his beating heart still droned on. Why was it now that he fully came to notice how out of place it was?
Axel continued his relentless chewing of the poor chocolate cookies that probably deserved a little better treatment, scowling into nothingness and thinking about and absolutely enraged at nothing.
Then there was blue. Like woah, blue. And he had a sudden, almost uncontrollable urge to jump out of his seat and grab the guy who probably had forgotten his name since that morning when it had last left those devilishly delicious looking lips. He just wanted to hold him and never let him leave – where to, Axel couldn't guess – to crush that flawless hot skin beneath his own. Wait- what the fucking hell was he thinking? This guy looked like he was fifteen, for crying out loud! Excla-fucking-mation point!
Being a master of masks was no easy feat when he faced this guy, it seemed. But he gave it his all and barely mustered a, "Hey, Roxas." But that wasn't before the blond had stopped dead in his tracks and stared at him, yet again, like a deer in the headlights.
Axel got a simple and distracted, "Yeah." In return. The redhead watched as Roxas pulled down a simple white coffee-stained mug and filled it to the brim with the piping hot caffeinated drink that actually wasn't half bad that day.
Axel needed to say something. His mind was screaming at him to speak, but all his mouth could do was spurt out a casual, "So, getting a lot of work done for the boss?"
Roxas gave an unexpected snort, "Yeah, I've been stapling papers. Hey, I'm so good, I might just be promoted to stamping envelopes next month." Oh, that was some bite of sarcasm that little blond had there. Who knew he could pack such a-
--
His chuckle echoed across the tiled surfaces, only dulled by the shatter of water as it fell from a single faucet in a line of unused ones. A second shower groaned and spurted to life a little ways down from where the Flurry of Dancing Flames bathed. Wild blond spikes wilted with the hot rain.
Accusing and cold blue turned to him, "What's so funny?"
The redhead's smirk grew as emerald eyes wandered a bit, "It's amazing that you can pack such a punch with such a scrawny body." A blinding flash of light followed his words and a single keyblade was at his throat bare seconds later.
Poison dripped from the Key of Destiny's words, and the redhead knew his threats were never empty, "You can't use fire in here, VIII, and you have no room for your chakrams. Care to repeat that?"
"Point taken." The keyblade dissipated and the acidic blond disappeared back into the steam.
--
"Stapling papers, eh? Can't be as bad as filing them." To Hell with those visions. It was his fucking overactive imagination. Him? In a communal shower with a fellow employee that he had just met? What the fuck?
Roxas opened the cupboard and Axel was forced to give a smirk at his thoughtful hesitation. The creamer was removed from the bottom shelf and dumped into the steaming cup. Yes, Axel could be courteous sometimes. But anything past that might be taking it a bit too far.
"Is it possible to get carpel tunnel or arthritis when you're nineteen?" The blond questioned as if he hadn't been phased by the redhead's obvious act to make his life just a little bit easier. Take that, karma. Thee shan't-
Wait. Nineteen? Roxas was nineteen? Damn, that was lucky. He seriously looked like he was still an underclassman in high school. Well, at least Axel couldn't be mistaken for a pedophile. Lord knows how many times he had caught himself fawning over a minor before. Oh, right. He was taking part in this conversation.
"No idea. Hey, maybe you should try taking calls. Some of the pranks I get are freaking hilarious." Well, that came out a bit smoother than he had thought, seeing that his brain was all different places at once.
Roxas actually turned his head and gave Axel the blandest expression he had ever seen, "I'd rather get swollen hand joints, thanks."
The redhead shrugged nonchalantly, "Suit yourself. You don't know what you're missing." Not much, really. He just didn't want to take more of those fucking bitchy calls.
The blond replaced the creamer and moved to the door, coffee in tow, "I'll survive."
"Yeah." The door closed between them before Axel could get out his, "See you later."
000
Soon, he was standing before Demyx's office door. He knocked lightly before waltzing right in. His best friend barely glanced up from his desk full of papers and working hands to acknowledge his presence.
Axel rolled his eyes, "What was that, Dem? Oh, I am doing just dandy. How about yourself? Wow, that's fantastic."
The frustrated dirty blond ground out in response to Axel's one-sided monologue, "Ax, I'm busy. What do you want?"
"Just a question." They had told each other everything over the years of their friendship. Whether it was family issues or guy troubles, they were always best buds. Hell, they even came out of the closet together. So why not ask this one?
"Sure," was the half-hearted grunting response.
"Well, you ever get the feeling that you've fucked someone that you see, but you can't remember exactly where or when?"
This made Demyx stop his busy shuffling and look up to stare blankly at his best friend, "No. Not all of us are whores, Ax." It took a really good friend to say that to his face. Anyone else, and they would have gotten a good old fashioned punch in the face.
Axel simply leaned a hip against the front of Demyx's desk, arms crossed over his chest, "Oh, I feel loved. And you've had your fair share, Demyx."
Blue eyes were adverted, "Not listening. Working."
"But, seriously Dem," Axel pressed on, not nearly as playful or joking as before, "Have you ever had that weird sense of knowing that something happened before with someone that you know, but it seems like a forgotten dream?"
"That's called déjà vu, Ax. Everyone gets them. Now get out of my office and get back to work. You probably have more work than I do."
Axel furrowed his brow before massaging the bridge of his nose, "I know what déjà vu is, but this is different. It really has nothing to do with where you are, just with the people around you."
"Axel, you think too much. Go get some caffeine and answer some phone calls. They might make you a bit more sane. If that doesn't work, then get a therapist. But someone who's not me, because I can't deal with you."
"You can deal with me when I'm drunk, right?" Now Axel knew he was pushing his luck just a bit more than he should.
Highly un-amused blue eyes looked up at him, "Axel, either your brain has finally shrunk to the size of a peanut or this job has gotten to your head."
"Hey," A finger was positioned dangerously close to Demyx's nose, "You're the one who got me into this job in the first place."
"And you'll be the one who'll get your ass booted out. But let me do the first honors by kicking you out of my office." This time, the blond actually stood up and smacked his friend upside the head.
Feeling and looking wounded, Axel gave a most manly pout and headed for the door, "Don't take your PMSing out on your best friend."
He opened the door and rushed out just as Demyx yelled after him, "I don't freaking PMS, Axel!" Little did the Mohawk dude know that about half of the slaves in the cubicles heard him and a few hushed chuckles bubbled into the room, Axel's joining in, though he was still shadowed by the question that was still pounding in his head with each painful beat of his heart. What the hell was going on?
--
End Notes: Okay, next chapter they should be on their way to the –insert dramatic music here- employee training thing whoooo
So, uh. Stay tuned.