Whoa, you guys... I got... 2 reviews last chapter. I think that's the least reviews I've gotten for anything I've ever posted before. Was it that bad? Sorry!

Anyways, this chapter wasn't beta-ed (I got impatient waiting), but I read-over the entire thing a couple times, so there shouldn't be any glaring obvious mistakes. If there is, can someone let me know? Thank you!

I really hope you guys like this chapter better, and I'm sorry if the last one sucked horribly!

Chapter 4

Roxas's eyes stared blankly at the brunette across from him, a grin that was much too innocent and just pleasant overall for him was plastered to his face, and despite knowing what kind of guy Sora really was, he still had to wonder if he had maybe misheard him… Okay, so he was praying that he had misheard him. But wouldn't you? Guys don't just smile to each other while watching dirty music videos, then pop out with questions to your sexual activities with those of the same gender as you. That's just not something that is socially acceptable!

So, of course, Roxas was left floundering for a response for quite a few moments, his mind unable to spit out something that would be an appropriate response to being asked such an inappropriate question. Why didn't they teach something like this at school? Then they could also give Sora the class and, hopefully, teach him how to be a functioning member of society, instead of some… would trash be the right word? Well, he didn't want to make it sound like he was stereotyping Sora based on his financial situation but… Comparatively, in both financial and social standards, he was, indeed, trash.

That being said, did he really need to give an appropriate response to an inappropriate question asked by trash? He didn't see anything that he would stand to gain in doing so, and it would most likely just be a waste of time and effort. It's not like he's running for some political position, he didn't need Sora on his side, if anything, it would be better if Sora was as far away from his as possible. Better for his image, for his future, for his life, for his health, mostly because he would dread the idea of being forced out here and possibly being mugged again… or almost mugged.

But still, even knowing this, he was still flustered, still just sitting there and gazing at the brunette blankly. His lips parted slightly as his jaw had gone slack in surprise, the pizza crust hanging limply in his hand, his eyes wide, the baby blue intense with an icy like quality in them, not cold like they usually were, but like they had frost creeping up over them. Sora's grin slowly dropped as Roxas just continued to stare at him, like he had frozen still the moment the words had graced his ears. The brunette's eyebrow rose slightly as he sighed and just waited for the reaction, but eventually figured that he wasn't going to get one if he didn't provoke it himself.

Leaning forward, he smirked as he watched the blonde beginning to tense up more, leaning back slowly as the brunette just seemed to get closer and closer to him, his breathing becoming shallow as the frosty look in his eyes changed to what almost rivaled fear. It didn't deter Sora, however, letting his face grow closer until he breathed out, knowing Roxas would feel his breath against his face, smirk growing wider as he watched the blonde flinch in confirmation. He let his tongue peek out a bit to wet his bottom lip, his eyes growing more hungry as he stared the boy down, his voice coming out too low and dark to truly suit the persona he wore for show, "Do you… want to try it?"

The piercing sound of a cell phone's chiming cut the air and sent a dagger through Sora's chest, depleting all the hot air he kept there to support himself as he jumped and flung himself back, almost like embarrassment, but more as if he had just realized his own actions. Roxas's wide eyes narrowed into scathing glares after he jumped from the ring, gulping heavily as he darted off the couch, he backed up a few steps until he reached the wall by the sliding glass door, then pushed it open and quickly slipped outside.

Slamming it shut, he leaned against the house beside it, biting down hard on his lip as he clenched his fists and wrinkled his nose at his sweaty palms. Another bout of ringing erupted his ear drums, however, not giving him a chance to think over what just happened, he shoved his hand in his pocket and let it emerge with his cell, the screen brightly lit with the name he… hadn't been expecting. Naminé had probably been the source of all the missed calls and texts, so why was his… mother calling?

Wasn't she in France or something?

Cautiously, he brought the phone up and flipped it open, half whispering a "hello," unconsciously respecting the peace that seemed to be in the backyard, cut off from the rest of the city. However, the peace was crushed with the words spoken from the receiver.

A deep, gravelly voice spoke slowly, almost lazily, "Hello, Roxas. I've got your mother here with me, and, well, you see, she isn't faring too well with the concussion and blood loss-"

"Dad?"

"W-What? No, do I sound like your father?"

"Yes, but maybe a few more years after chain smoking." Roxas smirked as he held the phone next to his ear, unworried. His parents, they weren't the normal type, with the business they do taking them all around the world, Roxas didn't see them much at all. In his mind, they didn't really register as parents, so it didn't matter much to him if they were around. He didn't need them; he'd done it on his own.

When they had moved to Radiant Gardens, he had taken care of enrolling in the school of his choice, he had chosen his classes and signed up for clubs while his parents spent a month renovating the house to the way they wished it. He had sat at their business dinners after the renovation patiently, with a pleasant smile on his face and the guts to swallow his gag reflex when some old nasty creep would talk to him. And then, when they had decided this house wasn't good enough for them, and had announced the move to France, he told them he would stay here with Naminé, and they left. But it didn't matter, he could take care of himself, and Naminé was around too, some of the time.

Enough to be more recognizable than them at least, he hadn't seen them in four years.

He fought a sigh that would make his exhaustion clear, "What are you doing?"

His father could be heard whining to his mother on the other side of the phone, the woman probably off in another room and ignoring him at this point, then spoke back to his son, "Aww, Roxas, you're no fun to play with anymore! What happened to the little boy who used to cry and say he'd call the cops?"

"He got too many fake threats on his mother's life. Now, if she is ever really kidnapped, he probably will just ignore it and hang up." Roxas rolled his eyes and noticed some plastic lawn chairs sitting a few feet ahead of him, heading over to them and giving the first one a once over before finding it decent enough to take a seat on.

"But Roooooooxaaaaaaaaas," The blonde winced slightly at the man's whine, but didn't respond otherwise, even though he could feel the annoyance building in him, he let it boil lowly with tolerance, "Oh, when did you get so boring? Take the stick out of your-"

Suddenly, there was some yelling, what sounded like a heavy thump on the other end, and then his mother's crisp, clean-cut tone entered the earpiece of his phone, and he sighed in relief at, not just the sound, but her words also, "Roxas, your father drank a bit too much at the bar in the hotel, he will call you again later. Good night."

"Good night, Mom." He flipped the phone shut and scowled, glaring down at the ground, where the light of the living room reflected off some green and some dead blades of grass.

It wasn't that he disliked his parents, but more like found them a nuisance. The way they acted, just dragging him around like he was another piece of decoration, and then how easily they dropped him when he refused to be dragged to France. It was a nuisance, the way they didn't act like parents and left it up to him. Naminé was just one sister, she couldn't fill in the feelings you get from parents, no matter how hard she tries, it will never change. Those moments he would see children walking hand-in-hand with their mom or dad, and feel a bit resentful for never having such a moment. Or those moments after a good tennis game, where his teammates' parents would take their children home or to dinner, congratulating them, and he would just go to the locker room, get changed, and head home.

He didn't mean to sound pitiful in that aspect, it wasn't something that he hurt over desperately, just something that used to pain him when he was younger. Now, even if his parents offered, he would turn them down. Now, he really didn't want something called a "parent."

"Hey, Roxy?" His head snapped up at the sound of the voice, his eyes catching on the sight of Sora standing curiously in the threshold to the living room, the light behind him giving a glow around him. Roxas had to squint a bit, to continue looking at him as he spoke, "You can sleep in my room, I'm going to sleep on the couch now, so go up when you're ready. First door on the right… Good night."

The glass door slid closed before Roxas could really gather his thoughts to respond, his eyes trailing after the teen inside the living room, watching him walk around through the glass door, turning off all lights except the one closest to the stairs, probably for him. He sighed quietly and stood as he saw Sora collapse on the couch, staring at the ground as he, as quietly as he could, slid the door open, squeezed in, and shut it behind himself.

Inside, warmth flooded against his skin, making him suddenly notice how cold he'd been, he shivered for a moment, at the sudden change, then glanced around the room. Taking care to overlook the head of brown hair just barely visible from over the armrest of the couch, he looked for any other door that could possibly lead to the bathroom. Frowning as he couldn't seem to find one, his eyes caught on the sight of something shiny across from the kitchen, walking up to it as silently as possible, he realized it looked to be a shiny silver handle, a small one that was indented in the wall. He slipped his fingers in it and gently pushed it to the right first, feeling no give and so pushing it to the left, becoming surprised as it slid open to reveal a small bathroom. A dangling string in front of him tempted to be pulled, making a dim light bulb brighten the room a bit to reveal… not much: a toilet, a sink, and a shower.

No window.

Not even a vent.

It wasn't that he was claustrophobic, but… places without windows just gave him the creeps. Despite getting these creeps, though, he stepped in and carefully slid the door shut behind him, leaving a tiny crack as he noticed there was no handle on the inside. He first used the toilet, gritting his teeth as he noticed it wasn't exactly the cleanest thing in the world, but he didn't have to touch it, just piss in it. So, he did exactly that, and then glanced at the sink. The faucet and handles seemed to be rusted, although, not to the point where he'd expect polluted water, or anything overdramatic like that, to come rushing out, so he just bent down to open the cabinet, expecting to see some unused toothbrushes or something (as that's what he had in his bathroom at home), but instead saw a bucket, half-filled with water, sitting under a pipe that seemed to lead to the sink's drain.

He narrowed his eyes and reached up, turning the cold water faucet, and then looking down at the pipe to see just what he expected: at least half the water was spewing from a hole in the pipe, splashing into the bucket. Grimacing to himself, he closed the cabinets and stood in front of the sink, sticking his finger under the water before running it roughly over his teeth. It would have to do for now, he would be going home tomorrow anyways. Then he splashed some water over his clean skin, using his shirt to dry his face when he realized there were no towels in sight, and sighed as he looked up in the mirror above the sink.

The reflection held infected cracks along the edge of the mirror, but he doubted it was those that made him stare at the image of himself without recognition. There was something different, not just his hair or the bags under his eyes, that he hadn't seen in the mirror in Naminé's bathroom, something that he could see plainly in the dim light of the light bulb behind him. It wasn't something, though, that even in such obvious sight he could identify.

But either way, it didn't matter. He would go home tomorrow, and he would never have to look in any other mirror again. It's probably just the lighting, and the dirt on the mirror, and his exhaustion, they were just twisting his vision, messing with his head, disorientating him. So he pushed away from the sink and quickly left the bathroom, shutting the door quietly behind himself before slipping around the corner and quickly heading up the narrow staircase, keeping his eyes glued to the floor the entire time.

At the top, he slipped into the first door on the right and shut it behind himself as fast as he could, wincing at the small thump it had made; turning around to glance at the room, his eyebrows pulled together in almost confusion, then dropped a bit in guilt, but telling himself not to feel pity. He wasn't going to insult Sora like that. The room wasn't even as big as his dressing room, it would barely even fit his closet, the floor beneath his feet was padded with clothing, making his nose wrinkle, the concert posters covering the walls making his eyes narrow in distaste and caution, and the black bed sheet hanging over the window ominously just gave him a bad feeling all together.

He ignored these things, looking back to the two pieces of furniture in front of him, the dresser sitting at the end of the bed, it seemed to be in pretty good condition, but the bed was a mess. Judging by the way it looked, the legs underneath having wheels, and the fact that it seemed to pop up a bit strangely in the middle, it looked like it was a fold-up. Sighing, he just forgot about it and walked over to collapse onto the bed, because, at the moment, he was so tired, he wouldn't even care if Sora was in the bed. He'd have slept on it anyways.

Feeling his mind go vertigo in unconsciousness, he let himself drift away.

EVERYONE GIVE LOTS OF THANKS TO MONKEHPLUSHIES FOR THE AWESOME BETA WORK!

The sound of a loud creak of the door was what eventually woke him up, groggily, disorientated, confused as to where he was but still enough in a dream-like state to not have reached a panic about that yet. He sighed deeply as he let his eyes crack open a bit, his eyes straining through the lack of light to see anything, but the combination of the night and the black sheet over the window blocked out too much light to see.

His heart thumped heavily against his ribs as he realized his situation, leaping up into a sitting position with a ragged gasp of air as his body leapt to panic before his mind could register where he was. And then his body was suddenly crushed under another, and he found himself shoved back onto the bed, hands wrapped around his mouth, and his mind didn't need to remember anything, just let his body panic.

"Don't you fucking say a word; I will slice your throat-"

Roxas thrashed around the hold against him, throwing his fists in the direction of what he hoped was the person's face, but they either hit the guy's free arm or air, and his legs were kicking and his hips bucking to try and get the guy off, but it really had no effect. Then he felt a sting against his cheek, making him still for a moment before he realized he'd just been slapped.

Slapped.

He heard a "click" and light flooded the room, making Roxas squint his eyes shut immediately, groaning at the burning brightness before also throwing his arms over his eyes as extra protection before he remembered he still had an attacker on him. About ready to start his panicking again, the "assailant" spoke, his tone clearly pissed off, "What the fuck is wrong with you, man? I mean, we live in a pretty shitty part of town, but there ain't gonna be a dumbass that'd try and sneak his way in this house! My DAD, AURON, he lives here! Not to mention Sora is Zack's kid! Who would fuck with Zack's kid? No-Body has enough shit in their brain to make them think that they can fuck with Sora, my dad, AND me. Damn, just use your fucking head, dumbass."

Roxas let his eyes blink open slowly, his arms still shading them from the harsh light as the image of Vanitas sneering down at him came into focus, finding the only thing he really registered about that explanation was that Sora's father is Zack, "Who's Zack?"

Vanitas's nose scrunched up like he saw something disgusting, "Are you shitting me? You don't know Zack? Zack FAIR? Jesus, Sora really chose a fucking piece of work, didn't he… Listen, you poor sheltered child, I'll only tell you one thing, only because I don't really give a damn about you but I want Sora to at least get some this month, Evans is a fake name, look up Sora FAIR."

He grunted as the body above him jumped off, the knee used to give the other leverage dug into his gut, making him yelp in pain and curl into a ball, clutching the area. Vanitas just ignored him, walking over to Sora's dresser to rip out a pair of jeans and a sweatshirt, he tugged them on without glancing at the blonde, but Roxas wasn't about to settle with just that, "What are you talking about?"

Vanitas raised an eyebrow at him, then snorted, "If you have to ask, you really don't deserve to know."

Roxas glared at him, sitting up in the bed as he watched Vanitas slip the sweatshirt on, no shirt, and zip it up about half way, lifting a thick chain from Sora's dresser and throwing it over his neck before seeming to notice that Roxas even had his attention on him. He raised an eyebrow at the boy before snorting and turning around, about to leave the room before he was stopped by the blonde again, "Wait, why are you in here? Do you always steal Sora's clothes?"

Vanitas turned to glower at him, "No, Dumbass, first drawer is my dad, second Sora, I'm on the third, the last one is socks and shit."

Roxas wrinkled his nose at that, "There's only one dresser in this house?"

"Well, what gave you the fucking clue, Sherlock? I just said so, didn't I? Are you going deaf? Fuck off, we don't have the money or space to each have our own, it's why Sora's got the biggest room."

"This is the biggest room?"

"Are you fucking retarded? I don't have the time to deal with this shit, go ask Sora! He's watching fucking Spongebob!" Vanitas slammed the door shut behind him, making the teen on the bed flinch, staring after him for a few moments before his mind seemed to register what he had said.

His breath caught, his head snapping around to look at the room, then shoved his hand into his pocket for his cell, pulling it out to see the time, nearly having a heart-attack when it said 11. He slept until 11 in the morning? How on earth had he managed to do that? Just HOW? He didn't even sleep like that at home, and this bed wasn't anywhere near as comfortable!

He scrambled off the bed, throwing the door open and racing down the stairs, glancing up for a moment to see Sora turn his head to look at Roxas running down the stairs in surprise, "Hey! Be careful! Those stairs aren't-"

Suddenly, the floor came rushing up to him, Roxas felt his head hit the stairs that somehow managed to get behind him, and he winced as he felt his right ankle twist at an awkward angle. Instincts taking over at the moment, his hands shot out under him as he felt his body slipping down the stairs, one hand catching on the edge of a step and stopping him, but not before the other slipped awkwardly and smashed into the wall. Finally stationary once more, he let his eyes flutter open as the silence reigned over the room… then he realized, that wasn't silence.

That was Spongebob laughing.

AH, MY BELLY BUTTON PIERCING IS PISSING ME OFF! THE STUPID THING! GRAWR BITCH!

Roxas kept his eyes clenched shut as Sora and Vanitas argued with each other, his ankle propped up on a pillow as he was stretched across the horrible green couch, cradling his bruised wrist against his chest, he sighed loudly, managing to at least catch one of the cousin's attention. Sora glanced over briefly, then sighed, turning a dark stare back to Vanitas, "Well, we should at least give him ice for it… then I think we should bring him to the hospital!"

Vanitas's eyes rolled, a sneer curling into his features, "Alright, Sora, we'll just scoop the payment for the hospital bill out of our ass. While we're at it, we can shit some rainbows and vomit pixie dust until we pass out from a brain tumor!"

"What if he has a fucking concussion or something, Vanitas! He can't remember the fall! That's a sign of a concussion! He could die if we don't bring him to the hospital right now!" Sora snarled back, taking a step forward to get into his cousin's face, but the older man just glared coldly down at him.

"We don't have the kind of money to do that sort of thing, Sora."

"I'll pay for it!" Sora and Vanitas shifted their attention to the blonde on the couch, still cradling his wrist as he glared at the idiots in front of him, "If it really makes you feel so better to have me checked in a hospital, then I'll go and pay for the bill, too! I'll even pay you interest! Just shut up and get me ice! I'm in pain here!"

Sora flinched and dashed around Vanitas, running into the kitchen, leaving Roxas alone with the other man. Vanitas began to stare him down as Roxas took hesitant awkward glances back at him, then winced and looked down at his foot on the pillow, "Uh, didn't you have somewhere to be?"

Vanitas's glare seemed to intensify at that, Roxas biting his lip in anxiousness. Sora didn't scare him, not at all, he did seem to have an underlining darkness in whatever he did, but he seemed to have a much lighter presence and personality. Sora was, dare he say, a pleasant person to be around… sometimes.

Most of the time, though, Roxas failed to see this less annoying side of him, but he knew it had to be there. After all, so many people wouldn't fall for the brunette's tricks if they didn't trust him in the first place, so that, too, also provided a bit of evidence that he wasn't a completely horrible person. Roxas has just failed to see it as of yet.

Vanitas snarl of a response drew him sharply out of his thoughts, baby blue eyes snapping to golden in surprise, "I have to go to the hospital, too."

Roxas's eyebrow rose at that, but he didn't say anything, not needing to as Vanitas just filled in the blank for him, "Your damn cousin is making me have an STD test."

Roxas was quiet for a moment, thinking over his cousins, and then remembered him having mentioned Ven yesterday. It wasn't anything surprising, he knew Ven was gay, and he knew he lived in a damn good apartment in Hollow Bastion, because his college was in Traverse Town, which was closer to Hollow Bastion than Radiant Gardens. But the surprising part of it was that Ven would date someone like Vanitas. Roxas really tried to be open-minded, he really did, but this was starting to push the limits. But at least he was still retaining enough common sense to have the guy tested, only God knows what kinds of things he could have contracted by now…

Sora suddenly burst back into the room, carrying two plastic bags of ice, handing one to the blonde for his wrist and carefully placing the other on his ankle. Sapphire eyes traced the sight of the red and swollen ankle in front of him, a frown worked into his lips, he held the bag, hesitantly, over the ankle for a couple seconds, wondering if the weight of it-even if only one or two pounds at most-would be more painful. Then his eyes caught on to the edge of the pant-leg, how it had been rolled halfway up the blonde's calf to not bother his ankle, revealing the smooth, creamy leg, a gentle slope of lithe muscle, but otherwise looking thin and…

He really wanted to touch that. No, he wanted to do so much more than touch that, but he couldn't do something like that at the moment. He was shaken from his thoughts suddenly as he heard Roxas hiss to himself, carefully laying the bag in his possession over his hurt wrist, and he sighed to himself, moving his own down gently onto the ankle. There was a whimper heard the moment it touched, but he had expected that, at least, then he felt soft skin touch his finger, and electricity jolted through his body. Sora unconsciously sucked in his breath, eyes jumping over to see Roxas's gaze focused straight at his foot, his eyes wide and a flush coming over his face. Sora wasn't sure what the flush was from, maybe pain, maybe anguish, maybe embarrassment or nerves?

He could only hope for the ladder.

Vanitas's snort was heard, making all attention shift to him suddenly, but he was just scowling at them, "Alright, duck tape the bags to him or something, he'll get the back seat, that means you gotta sit on the milk crate, Sor."

Roxas's eyes narrowed in confusion, "Milk crate?"

Sora just shrugged at him, "Sacrifices were made."

YEAH YOUR LIFE! HAVE YOU EVER SAT ON A MILK CRATE INSTEAD OF A CAR SEAT? IT'S FREAKING SCARY!

Roxas's jaw dropped as he looked at the car before him, if it could even be considered a car still. A Honda Accord DX, the color looked to be black, but there were some places that it looked like it had been painted over, the paint seeming to wash off a bit in those places to reveal some dulled gold. All the doors had been replaced with ones from what looked like a different car, as they were red and the windows didn't seem to match quite right, and the front bumper had definitely seen much better days. The car as a whole seemed to have never had an easy day, though, there were scratches, dings, scorch marks, you name it. Then the back door was opened, and Sora helped him into the backseats, giving him the view of the leather interior.

The outside looked like shit, but the seats inside were leather? What was the priority here? And the flooring was tiled! But then he looked up and his jaw dropped. There, right next to the driver's seat, sat a milk crate in place of the passenger's seat. A milk crate. Although, granted, the seatbelt was still left, sticking out from the floor, awkwardly tied to the crate with some rope, and the belt itself still intact on the opposite side of it… but where the hell was the seat? Is this really safe? Was Sora seriously going to sit on that?

Yes, he was.

Vanitas jumped into the driver's seat as Sora quickly crawled on top of the crate, pulling the seatbelt over himself and clicking it in, one hand immediately went to the handle by the door, the other clutching to the dashboard in front of him. He looked over and smiled brightly at Roxas, "Don't worry! Vanitas has never been pulled over by a cop!"

Roxas just blinked at him, then muttered, "You're going to die."

Vanitas snorted, "No he's not… We're going to the hospital, remember?"

The car roared to life, and Roxas felt his nails digging into the leather upholstery beneath him. Pulling out of the driveway, Roxas felt his heart leap back into his throat, the beating surging through his ears, the sweat building on his neck and palms, his breathing quickening, and, finally, his life began to flash before his eyes as Vanitas peeled out of the driveway and onto street before them.

His only regret: he wasn't going to die happy.

…

Okay, and maybe he regrets having not given away his virginity before his death, too.