"That's quite a look for you."

Zexion barely glances up from the tie dye Lisa Frank shirts he's folding as Axel strides into Hot Topic. Zexion has long, silvery blue side bangs that obscure half his face, and he dresses like an IT guy after a few too many beers: the sleeves of his button downs permanently rolled up, to reveal a tasteful garden of black floral tattoos that Demyx had once drunkenly dubbed 'almost kind of sexy.'

Unlike Demyx, Zexion is allergic to tie-dye in all its forms and wastes no time getting pissy with Axel.

"I'm folding it, not buying it. And we can't all have a closet like a slutty noir film."

Axel hates that even when he's riled up, Zexion speaks with a calm, neutral cadence, like he's reading an especially dry lab report.

Before Axel can come up with a reply to this that digs a little deeper than 'Yeah so?' or 'Your dad likes it', Zexion is calling over his shoulder. "Demyx!"

The blonde bounds from the register, dodging fixtures, lunatic hairstyle bouncing, flyaways scattering.

Demyx stops a foot from the taller man and jams a finger into his solar plexus. "Jerkface!" Demyx accuses. "If I'd've known you'd be gone for an hour, I'd've come up with a cover story! I could have told Saïx work kept you late or you got eaten by bears or something!"

He knows he shouldn't, but Axel smirks. It's hard to take anger seriously when its coming from a man in a fuzzy unicorn sweater. "I don't know if he'd buy that, Dem. I mean, me, agree to work late? Am I also mind-alteringly ill?"

Typically, this would get a grin out of Demyx; even Zexion cracks the scholarly approximation of a smile, but Dem continues to glare like Axel had cut all his guitar strings.

"I hope your little date with Roxas was worth my suffering," Demyx whines, storming to the back, fists clenched, presumably to retrieve a still sulking or livid Saïx.

Axel returns his attention to Zexion, who does a fairly convincing job of acting disinterested, smoothing over the anime-eyed dolphin silk screened on the first of the stack of tie-dyed shirts.

He doesn't know Zexion well enough to guess who he would gossip about this to, if anyone.

"Wasn't a date," Axel clarifies, arms crossing, thoughts drifting back to the laughing blonde, taking an ice cream sticky finger and swiping it across Axel's cheek.

"None of my business," Zexion replies in a tone meant to be reassuring, quickly enough that it isn't.

Axel groans as Demyx takes too long to bring Saïx out. They must be arguing over something in the back. Totally reassuring.

"Saïx lectured Demyx on optimal Funko placement for over fifteen minutes," Zexion informs him.

Axel's lip twitches with an amusement that does not placate Zexion all too much. "That does sound like Saïx."

"I timed him."

Axel can't even pretend to look sympathetic. "You should see our apartment."

"Then Saïx asked him a question to see if he'd been paying attention, and Demyx said 'um.'"

"Not a speck of dust out of place. Our spice rack is alphabetized."

Zexion sets the shirt pile down, arms crossing. "Saïx blew up and threatened to fire him. Second time today, apparently."

"No shit?"

Zexion fixes Axel with a single eye, and though there is nothing malicious in his gaze, the fact that he's looking at Axel at all while they speak makes it feel downright accusatory.

"Alright, alright." Axel tosses up his hands. Since when is he letting Zexion guilt trip him? "I'll talk to Saïx, calm him down a bit."

Zexion raises a dark eyebrow, like this is somehow insufficient. "And Demyx?"

"Our boy Roxas almost had to work his first shift by himself this morning because Demyx was getting a frappe. Saïx had to come in on his Me Day to redo the schedule. Do you know how often Saïx gets to just take a day? Never. Maybe Saïx was being snippy, but you'd've been snippy too. Our bubble-headed bestie needs to get his shit together, alright? I'm not apologizing to Demyx."

They spend a minute just glowering at each other, which would have made the customers laugh, if they had any, at the height difference alone.

Zexion sighs, and somehow, even that's condescending. "Sometimes I forget how unreasonable Saïx makes you."

"Yeah, well," Axel pockets his hands, leans back a bit, to stare at the white lights and black iron beams of the ceiling no one else ever looks at, "get it memorized."