So I says to myself, I says "self, aren't you obsessed with Lady Gaga? Like, insanely obsessed with Mother Monster?" "why yes, yes I am, this is very true." "well then, why the fuck haven't you written a story for a single Gaga song yet?" "..."
this story is littered with references to the song, both in direct song lyric quotes and in just referencing certain things Gaga mentions (whiskey, New York City, Nebraska...). all of these belong to the genius that is Mother Monster, I am just a faithful Little Monster worshipping the shit out of her.
Title: You and I
Characters: Axel/Roxas
Song: "Yoü and I" by Lady Gaga
Roxas swung his apartment door open on the third knock, one hand curled over the door knob, the other wrapped around the tumbler glass of whiskey he hadn't quite managed to put down on his way to the door.
The glass shattered against the floor upon impact.
"Hey," Axel said casually. One hand scrubbed at the back of his neck awkwardly, fingers threaded through the hair on his nape. Hair, Roxas noted faintly, that was now long enough for it to be pulled into a ponytail that could rival Riku's (the last time he had seen Axel the older man had had a fauxhawk that was just long enough for Roxas to tangle his fingers in, not even long enough to fall down into Axel's green green green eyes).
Roxas raked his gaze greedily over the man standing on his doorstep, taking in the spiky auburn hair and burning malachite eyes, framed by a single stud pierced through one eyebrow (old) and two purple tears on his cheeks (new). He was tan, a spray of freckles across his nose like he'd recently spent a lot of time outside, that weathered look skin gets from really being outside, not just playing a casual game of frisbee on the lawn or something. Roxas memorized the way the white v-neck t-shirt clung to Axel's thin arms and narrow waist (sleeve on his right arm almost finished, new black script inking up his left wrist), took note of the aviators hanging from the cotton V of the shirt's collar.
It was the shoes, a battered but obviously well-loved pair of red Chuck Taylor hi-tops, that had Roxas choking on the air he'd been trying to inhale. They were the exact same pair Axel had left with, right down to the small, crooked R wedged into one corner of the right shoe (Roxas himself had Sharpied that on. He'd told Axel it was so that he'd always know which was the right foot to start off on, but they both really knew it was so Axel wouldn't forget about him).
"A-axe–" he stuttered breathlessly. Axel gave him a sheepish smile, head still ducked down towards the ground.
"Rox?" Sora had finally come out of the kitchen, no doubt wondering what was taking his brother so long. "Rox, wha – oh. Oh." Sora stopped dead in his tracks, blinking owlishly at the pair in the doorway before twisting around to holler over his shoulder. "Riku! Riku, you need..."
Sora's boyfriend came barreling into the hallway like the building was on fire, no doubt terrified by the sharp tone lacing the brunet's words. He too stopped short upon catching sight of the front door, mouth falling open as Axel finally wrenched his gaze away from Roxas and glanced up at Riku. "Holy fucking shit," Riku whooped, "holy shit, you're back."
He closed the distance between them before anyone else even moved, crossing the hallway in a few long strides, glass and ice crunching under his feet. Roxas shuffled soundlessly out of the way, eyes still glued to Axel's figure as though he were afraid that the older man would disappear if he looked away. Riku, it seemed, hadn't been stunned to immobility the way Roxas had. He yanked Axel forward the last few feet and threw his arms around his best friend, the pair of them laughing as Axel finally stumbled over the threshold, returning the fierce hug just as enthusiastically.
"You have tattoos," Riku said flatly, finally pulling back enough to look at Axel. He kept both hands firmly on the redhead's shoulders; it appeared that Roxas wasn't the only one afraid of him disappearing. "On your face."
"Yeah, fucker, missed you too," Axel scoffed, shoving Riku away playfully. Riku rolled his eyes, but even Mr. Moody-Emo-Boy himself couldn't keep the face-splitting grin from his lips. "Got them on the street in India during Holi," he said calmly, as though coming back from a foreign country none of them had known he was in with ink on his face was perfectly normal (then again, for Axel, it kind of was now).
"India?"
"India," Axel reiterated, smiling slightly. "India, Indonesia, Thailand, Australia. Spent the last six months bouncing around that area, you know."
They hadn't. Axel hadn't so much as sent them a postcard, none of them, not one. None for Riku, Axel's best friend since they were four, practically his own brother. None for Sora, who, if Riku was practically Axel's brother, was practically Axel's brother-in-law. None for Roxas, who, well...who would have appreciated hearing from Axel every now and then. It would have been nice to know the other man was alive, at least.
"Jesus," Riku whistled, shaking his head. The movement brought Roxas back into his line of vision, wide-eyed and pale-faced, and Riku's whole expression changed. The older man turned back to Axel with a business-like nod, clapping him on the shoulders once more before stepping back fully out of the embrace. "Well," he said carefully, glancing back over his shoulder at Sora. Sora already had Riku's jacket in hand, keys dangling from his palm. He wouldn't even look at Axel. "Obviously you didn't know Sora and I were going to be here when you showed up, so we should probably get out of the way. Let you guys talk. Give me a call tomorrow, whenever, in a few days, okay? We'll catch up."
"Yeah," Axel said quickly, stepping out of the doorway. He shot Sora a look, just to see if the brunet was going to acknowledge his presence before leaving. Apparently not. "Yeah, I promise, Reeks."
Riku smiled faintly at the old nickname. It had been almost two years since he'd heard it last; its usage was reserved strictly for Axel. He waited until Sora had already stormed out the still-open door (probably best not to piss him off more than he already was, Sora was already beyond furious at Axel, didn't need to add his own boyfriend to that list too) before turning back around. "Missed the shit out of you, Ax."
And then there were two.
Axel finally leaned forward, gently tugging the door from Roxas' slackened grip and closing it quietly behind them. Neither of them moved much further than that, Roxas still standing nearly against the wall, Axel shifting his weight awkwardly from foot to foot as he slowly dropped his duffle to the floor.
They had met on Axel's 22nd birthday at a surprise party Riku had planned. He'd invited the then-20-year-old Roxas mostly as a gesture of goodwill; Sora and Riku had just gotten together back then and the jury was still out on whether or not Roxas liked his twin's new boyfriend. They'd joked, later on, in the four years between the Halloween surprise party and the day Axel left, that introducing Roxas to his soulmate was one hell of a way to earn brownie points with the family. The soulmate part had only been partially joking.
It had been almost silly, really. Roxas had been late to the party; he missed the surprise and the general grace period for introductions, he didn't even know who Axel was. All he knew was that he'd gone to the party dressed as Rocky, from Rocky Horror, and the most incredible creature Roxas had ever laid eyes on was dressed as Frank-n-Furter, and it had taken the two of them a grand total of five minutes of drunken conversation before they were ditching the party entirely for a midnight showing of the Rocky Horror Picture Show they both agreed they'd rather go to.
They never dated, not officially, they never even kissed. It was always an inevitability, everyone knew that, including both of them, but somehow, they'd just never gotten around to it. They were, for all intents and purposes, practically dating anyway, and at the very least had developed a friendship to rival even the then-twenty-year-strong one between Axel and Riku.
"Hi," Axel said again, quietly. He sounded horribly unsure of himself, a tone of voice Roxas wasn't sure he'd ever heard before in the assertive redhead. Axel was all charm and charisma, smooth grace and a smoother tongue: confidence was hardly something he lacked.
"Hi," Roxas said back automatically. They stared helplessly at each other, neither knowing that they were both thinking the exact same thing. They'd imagined this day, this moment, so many times over the last two years, and now that they were finally in it, face to face for the first time in months, neither one of them could find the words they'd both practiced a thousand times over.
"Roxas."
His name came out like a breath, an exhalation bordering on a sigh, like it was a relief for Axel to roll those syllables off his tongue again. Roxas imagined the redhead hadn't much cause to say his name in recent months. He personally had put a ban on even thinking the other man's name, let alone uttering it out loud.
"Roxas...I...I don't –"
"Did it work?" Roxas asked quietly. They weren't the words he'd meant to say. He wasn't even sure what he'd meant to say, really. He'd thought it over so many times. Sometimes he screamed at him, ripped into him until Roxas' voice gave out and they were both crying and Axel finally, finally felt as miserable and alone as Roxas had been every day since he left. Sometimes Roxas poured his heart out right there wherever it was that he'd run into Axel; on the steps outside their apartment, in the grocery store, on a narrow street in a far away city. Sometimes they barely used words at all, just lips and hands and tongues as they barely managed to pant out desperate confessions of love and longing between moans.
Axel looked lost, like he didn't quite know what Roxas was asking him. Roxas wondered vaguely how many languages the other man spoke now, how many different ways Roxas could ask the question before Axel understood it.
Two years after that Halloween, when Roxas finally joined Axel in the world of "college graduate," he'd moved out of his dorm and into the spare bedroom in Axel's apartment. The nearly-inseparable pair became infinitely more so once they were living together; very rarely did you find one without the other. It was true love, some their friends would tease them. It must be, others would laugh in response, how else could they put up with all the banalities of a relationship and none of the sex?
It had been St. Patrick's Day. Roxas remembered it, as if he was ever going to forget the day that Axel had left, because in one of those hideously dark moments in the week after he suddenly thought of that old John Mayer song about winter relationships being safe until St. Patrick's Day. The thought had made him laugh until he started choking on his own tears, a sound that was apparently terrifying enough to wake both Sora and Riku and send them sprinting into their guest bedroom.
Axel had been insistent on the fact that he wasn't leaving Roxas. Roxas, he swore, was the only reason he hadn't left sooner, had been the only thing that kept him here, anchored and needed and content. Sometimes Roxas felt horribly guilty about that, that he'd been holding the other man back from his dreams. It had always been Axel's dream to travel the world, to pack up nothing more than a duffle bag after graduation and hop the next plane to anywhere, traveling at random and experiencing life on a whim.
He needed to find himself. That's what he'd told Roxas. He'd wanted to take some time to figure out who, exactly, Axel Sanchez was, away from all the things that defined him here. He couldn't just be Reno's kid brother, Riku's best friend, one half of Axel-and-Roxas anymore. College was over and grad school was over and all Axel had to show for it was a BA in English and a Masters in Journalism. How was he supposed to figure out which was the right direction to go in his future if he didn't even know which was the right foot to step off on?
Roxas didn't have an answer. Nor did he have an argument for why Axel should stay further than "what about me?" So instead he'd gone to the store, bought Axel a brand new pair of red Chuck Taylor hi-tops, and Sharpied an R into the corner just above the right pinky toe. That night, the night before Axel would sneak out of their apartment before Roxas was even awake, Axel crept silently into Roxas' room and slid into bed next to him. Neither of them spoke as Axel wrapped his arms around Roxas, the smaller blond lacing their fingers together as he pressed himself as close to Axel as possible without actually climbing under the other man's skin.
"Did what work?"
"Did you find yourself?" Roxas clarified. He was careful, so careful, with his tone. He wanted Axel to know that it was a serious question, that he genuinely meant it, and not that he was trying to patronizing or vindictive.
"I was offered a job," Axel said.
Roxas blinked. Out of everything he'd expected the taller man to say, that hadn't been it. It certainly didn't answer his question, and frankly, he didn't really see what it had to do with anything. Axel, though, appeared to be on a roll now that he'd finally gotten the words out.
"I was offered a job," he said again. "I wrote a lot while I was gone. Notebooks and notebooks full. Occasionally fiction, something that was inspired by wherever I was or the people I met, but mostly letters." Axel smiled half-heartedly, finally meeting Roxas' eyes. He'd seen lapis lazuli for the first time in person when he'd been in Egypt: seeing the exact color of Roxas' eyes for the first time in a year had made him fall to his knees right there in the middle of the museum.
"What kind of letters?"
"Letters to you," Axel elaborated. They both knew, despite the sharp intake of Roxas' breath, that the explanation hadn't really been necessary. "I wrote you every day, Rox. Told you all about the Pyramids of Giza and family I found in Ireland that was convinced I was a long-lost relative. Wrote about how the stars in Nebraska compared to the stars in New York City and yes, got incredibly sappy over the thought of whether or not you were looking at the same sky. There are 723 letters, one for every day I was gone."
Roxas wasn't sure, but it was very, very possible that he was crying. And he was even less sure about this one, but it was very, very possible that Axel was too. "How does that translate to you having a job?" He choked out, watching Axel through a tear-blurry stare.
"I lost one of the notebooks when I was in New Zealand," Axel continued. "This woman, Tifa Lockhart, picked it up somewhere and found a way to get it back to me. Thing is, apparently she works as an editor for a popular travel magazine in Japan, and she wants to send me around the world to all different places and have me write different "letters from wherever" for the magazine."
The supportive best friend in Roxas wanted to be ecstatic for his friend. This was the kind of opportunity Axel had barely even dared hope for; everything he ever wanted to do in life, all rolled into one fantastic job that would actually pay him to do what he loved. The selfish, hopelessly in love part of him felt the dull throb of his heart dropping to somewhere below the pit of his stomach.
"You're leaving again," he said flatly. It wasn't a question. Roxas could barely even muster up the emotion to make it a question, let alone the enthusiasm to pretend to be happy for him. But Axel was already shaking his head frantically, and before Roxas could stop him the redhead had taken a step forward, reaching both hands up as though to grab Roxas before he thought better of it.
"You asked me if I found myself," Axel reminded the blond, dropping his hands back down to his sides. "If it worked. Well, it did and it didn't. Yeah, the experience...Roxas, it was incredible. Indescribable. I saw and felt and learned more in the last two years than most people get in a lifetime. But the most important thing I learned was that shit, Rox, it didn't mean a damn thing without you."
Roxas blinked. And again. "W-what?"
"Trying to figure myself out without you was like trying to put together a puzzle with half the pieces missing." Axel finally moved. He closed the space between them and this time when he lifted his hands, he followed through with it, cupping Roxas' jaw between both palms. "I just...there's something about you and I, Rox."
Roxas wasn't sure what it was that sent him over the edge. Maybe it was the fact that, for all intents and purposes, Axel had just professed his love for him (because Roxas knew the other man well enough to know that thathad been a love confession, regardless of whether or not the word love had been uttered). Maybe it the way he'd said it, like Roxas was his other half, and the way it resonated within Roxas as exactly what he'd felt every day since he'd met the man. If he had to guess though, if he'd really been forced to put much thought into it, it was probably the feeling of Axel's hands on his face, big palms warm against his jaw, calloused fingers pressing lightly against his skin, the tangible evidence that Axel was really here, so close that they were sharing the same air with every breath.
Roxas wrapped both arms around Axel's neck and tugged the redhead down, pressing himself up on his toes and meeting the other man halfway. It was hardly perfect. Roxas still had tears streaming down his face and he was having a hard time balancing on his toes, even with his arms around Axel's shoulders for support, but none of that mattered. What mattered was that Axel was pressing him back into the wall and Roxas was simultaneously pushing himself forward and pulling Axel tighter against him and that Axel tasted like a bizarre combination of cigarettes and a vanilla milkshake and mint and that they'd been building up to this for six whole years and somehow, miraculously, it didn't disappoint.
Axel broke away first, pulling back with a small gasp of air. Roxas settled back down onto his heels slowly; Axel followed, bending his head far enough to rest his forehead gently against Roxas'. Both men kept their eyes closed, reassured enough by the touch of their skin and the scent of Roxas' hair and the sound of Axel's heartbeat and the taste still lingering on their lips that they didn't need sight to prove their existence.
"Come with me," Axel said quietly.
Roxas felt the small puff of each exhalation against his still-parted lips, waiting until the sensation faded before trying to make sense of Axel's words. "Go with..."
"It's a lot to ask for," Axel said hastily. "I know. And I won't blame you if you can't, or don't want to. It's reckless and impulsive and stupid, but Roxas, I came back for you, and this time I'm not leaving without you, so either we're going together or we're not going at all."
Roxas pulled back carefully, just enough that he could open his eyes and look Axel square in the heart of his malachite stare. He slid his arms down slowly, moving one hand from the back of Axel's neck to the sharp curve of his pointed jaw.
"You idiot," Roxas said fondly, thumb stroking the flesh of Axel's cheek, smoothing over the purple marks. "I've had my bag packed since the day you left."
I smother you all in fluff.
This weekend I did a TON of writing. A ton. I literally ignored my cell phone all weekend in favor of writing. And yet...absolutely none of it can be posted up here yet. I outlined two one-shots and started writing one of them, I also outlined the first 15 chapters of Living Proof, the multichapter (I won't start writing it until the entire thing is outlined). I feel so productive, but none of that is shareable yet. I had to do SOMETHING to say hi to y'all, so I wrote this out real quick. It sounded better in my head, but whatever.