A/N: AkuRoku, ballet AU. FLUFF. This fic is my half of an art trade with my beloved princess-wasabi. Please check out her art, it's gorgeous!
En Pointe
Axel shifted his grip on his umbrella as he paused to look at the ad covering the bus shelter. He took a long draw from his cigarette, studying the young man in the ad. He was lean and compact, the shape of his muscles defined under tights, his body flexed and composed of curves and lines. One arm arched gracefully above his head, the other extended outward, to balance the deep bend of the opposite knee.
His eyes were shuttered in concentration, but Axel knew they would be blue when they fluttered open. He knew the texture of the blond hair, a little sticky from hair gel, but soft.
Axel exhaled, watching the wind catch the smoke and blow it away, before turning back to his path. Another block, and he turned the corner, then up the path to the apartment building. He shook his umbrella out at the door and trudged up a set of narrow stairs, unlocked the first door at the top of them, toeing his shoes off and leaving the umbrella to one side.
The apartment was quiet, but there was a low light coming from further in. Axel didn't bother turning on the overhead light as he pulled two bottles of water from the fridge and made his way into the sitting room.
Roxas was draped over the couch, an arm thrown over his face. Axel glanced at the duffel resting on the floor beside him, a pair of black ballet slippers sitting neatly on top, then back at Roxas's bare feet, propped on the arm of the couch. They were still wrapped in athletic tape, the visible tips of his toes red and sore.
Axel sighed and leaned down, brushing blond hair back to press a kiss to his forehead.
Roxas stirred, shifting his arm just enough to focus one bleary blue eye on Axel. "You're home." His voice came out slurred with sleep.
Axel carded a hand through Roxas's hair, eliciting a sigh. "I saw the poster for your show."
"Remind me never to do something like that again. It took forever to get the perfect shot." This time the sigh he let out was more of a frustrated huff.
"It is perfect."
"Whatever." He scowled a little, and swung halfheartedly at Axel.
"How are your feet?"
"How they look. Awful."
Axel straightened, chuckling, and pressed one of the water bottles against Roxas's bare arm. He groaned and grabbed at it, opening the pop-top with his teeth, and gulped it down. Axel deposited the other one on the coffee table and returned to the kitchen, grabbing a hand towel and filling a large bowl with warm, soapy water, and a clean rag, which he placed next to his water bottle.
Axel moved to the other end of the couch and put a hand on Roxas's legs. "Up." Roxas complied, lifting his legs to make room for Axel, and then settling them in his lap. Axel ran a hand over one bandaged foot, watching for Roxas's reaction to find the worst spots, before he started peeling away the tape.
"They don't look awful. Just painful. Your feet are lovely." The tape off of the first foot, Axel leaned forward to retrieve the towel, tucked it under the Roxas's feet, and then wrung out the rag. Roxas let out a groan when the warmth touched his foot, excess water trickling down.
"That sounded really gay." He crossed his arms.
Axel paused in his ministrations, raising an eyebrow. "You do realize we are literal gay men, right?"
"Speak for yourself—hey!" He squeaked when Axel pinched his thigh.
"Next time I won't be so forgiving." He squeezed Roxas's foot, gently, to illustrate his point.
"Fine." He was stared up at the ceiling, sulking.
A silence descended between them, comfortable, Roxas relaxing little by little as Axel peeled the tape off and washed his other foot. There was another rustle of movement when Axel reached into the duffel on the floor, shuffling around in it and coming up with a jar of foot cream. Roxas hissed when the cold stuff came in contact with his feet, but it turned into a moan of appreciation as Axel massaged it into his feet, a double assault of the sweet scent of the lotion and the pleasure of his aches being expertly worked out.
When he was done with Roxas's feet, his hands moved up Roxas's calves, giving them a more cursory massage, and then pressed a kiss to the bottom of each foot.
"That's the wrong end," Roxas mumbled, his voice soft.
"Hm?"
"I'm up here."
Axel's lips quirked into a smile. "Thought you weren't a gay man."
There was a pause. "Nope. I'm bi."
"Fair enough." He shifted Roxas's legs, the towel falling to the floor, then rearranged his own limbs until he was kneeling, straddling Roxas's hips, and their faces were even.
Blue eyes looked up at him, and Axel felt his breath leave him, the way it always did whenever he looked into Roxas's eyes. "Hey."
"Hey." Axel felt Roxas's breath on his cheek, and then they were kissing, their mouths sliding together effortlessly, tongues curling against each other. Roxas's hands were on Axel's back, slipping under his shirt, tracing slow, languid lines against his skin.
At some point, Axel shifted again, scooping Roxas up bridal-style and carrying him to bed—despite Roxas's protests at the arrangement, Axel pointed out that he didn't want to undo his hard work relaxing Roxas's feet—and there they continued where they left off, slow and deliberate, clothes finding the floor. Hands and mouths finding sensitive spots, and then some, until they were both sated. They fell asleep, limbs entwined and peaceful.
With visions of Sugar Plum Fairies dancing in their heads.