Title: Bribery
Summary: First line. XD
Disclaimer: Blahbityblahbity blah, not mine, if you couldn't already tell. Axel and Roxas and KH are all property of Squeenix.
Word Count: 724
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There are bribes, and there are bribes.
A bribe is when Axel slips Demyx a bit of munny in exchange for Number IX taking care of his superior's night shifts every now and then. This is backed by an evil, evil smile full of implied threats and the hint of violence (see, Axel knows where Demyx keeps his sheet music, and no matter where he might hide them, they would never be impervious to fire) as well as gratuitous pulling of rank. This pisses off IX to no end, but in the end, always nets Axel the opportunity to sleep inside (where it is dry, comparatively warm, and there is no threat of being eaten by a Behemoth.)
Roxas, on the other hand, is a completely different matter. Roxas requires bribes. Offers of munny and attempts at blackmail or extortion would earn him nothing but a Keyblade thrust where it would hurt. (And yes, it does hurt a great deal indeed.) Oh no, to get him to do anything, Roxas needs Sea-Salt popsicles from the pretty blond vendor in Twilight Town (and may the Darkness help him if they're melted), fried calamari from the depths of Atlantica, crumpets- and where the hell do you find crumpets anyway? Not to mention, a bottle of rum from Port Royale…
Who does he think Axel is? His own personal inter-dimensional catering service? Is the short little bastard even old enough to drink?
(The answer, of course, is "No," but most people value the use of their limbs enough not to tell Roxas so.))
And so, Axel, like any sane, logical person, grumbles and bitches and plain outright refuses… and ends up finding himself hopping across worlds, playing 'Fetch the Meal for Roxas' regardless.
"Do you want a backrub with that? A manicure, maybe?" he snaps one evening, when his injured pride (which has been sustaining quite a lot of bruises of late) demands that he make some kind of snarky comment in an attempt to demonstrate that he is, despite all appearances, really in control of the situation.
Roxas, digging into a medium-rare venison steak (courtesy of Pride Lands), does not even bother dignifying his words with a response, instead choosing to wave his fork at Axel in a vague gesture that could have been anything from "Fuck you" to "Get me one of those jelly doughnuts with rainbow sprinkles on top."
Axel chooses to interpret it as the former. (He has no jelly doughnuts, and sure as hell wouldn't be sharing them with the damn glutton if he did.) "Yeah, well, you can go just go and fuck yourself too." And why do I even bother with you, really?
Roxas glances up from his steak and gives him a flat look of annoyance, presumably in regards to the interruptions during his dinner. Axel glares back, pissed at his inability to just say "No" to those big blue eyes, and frustrated with Roxas' complete and total lack of gratefulness. For a moment, there is a crackle of tension as their eyes lock, a near tangible threat of violence just beyond the horizon, like the scent of blood. To his almost-surprise, Axel finds that he welcomes it; a chance to change the stalemate that was their relationship into something solid, definable, even if it was only anger and the clash of weaponry.
The moment passes. Roxas is the first to look away, and Axel does not exactly crow in triumph. Then, there is the 'wshh' of displaced air, and with a movement like a striking snake, Roxas grabs his collar and jerks him down, pressing his mouth against Axel's lips in a single swift motion.
Oh yeah. That's why.
With a shudder that is not at all pain, Axel remembers.
Roxas' kisses are always fierce, always demanding, and always tasted of something indefinable, like blood and citrus and a sensation that reminded him, vaguely, of the time before, when once upon a time he'd had a heart.
A (small small) part of him is annoyed by the fact that, as in everything else, Axel has to bribe Roxas for his kisses (with cookies and exotic fruits and breaded shrimp). The rest didn't much care; right up until Roxas looses his grip on his jacket, and draws back.
"Now get me a jelly doughnut. Don't forget the sprinkles."
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A/N: Randomly wanting something to write. This story ties in with another one-shot I haven't posted, possibly to become its own set of stories, titled 'No Takeout'.
And BWAHAHA, Reinna has managed to write Akuroku without reference to death and depression angst stuffs.
Review and comment? ;D
