A/N: I wanted to say something, but I forgot what it was.

chapter eight;
fistfight foreplay

My eyes burned when I opened them, on account to the sheer curtains that allowed unconcentrated sunshine to pour in. I squeezed them closed and blindly reached over to the nightstand and grabbed my large bottle of cheap vodka and took a swig. I choked back the urge to regurgitate it and sighed. I was in a perpetual cycle of being sick and hungover. The alarm clock by my head told me it was around noon, which meant no one was home. So, like a zombie rising from the dead, I emerged from my coffin of sweat-saturated blankets and throw pillows. My breath could kill, so I chugged a bit more vodka, swishing it around my mouth and through my teeth, before spitting it into the bucket Naminé had left bedside for my convenience, since she knew I was an aggressive puker.

For the past week, I had been living in Riku and Naminé's guest room. After I left the Henley's that night, I wandered a bit until a taxi cab happened by. Using my shiny new credit card, I had him bring me to the only people who would never turn me away. We had a heartfelt reunion, and I felt a semblance of normalcy I hadn't felt since before our momentous trip to Marion. Naminé was right, I didn't need the Henley's, her and Riku were my family. Ansem was my family. I was my family. I gave everything up so easily to acquire something I already had.

But that didn't quell the feelings of depression and inadequacy. So I had been drinking a lot. Like, a lot. My credit card hadn't been cancelled, so I got drunk on Anastasia's dime. I'd head down to the bar and buy shots for everyone and leave only when they kicked me out. At which point I'd stumble back into the townhouse and finish my night off with cheap liquor from a drugstore. Naminé was worried about me, and Riku probably was, too. But they knew I was an adult, and that I had a lot of emotions to deal with.

I was surprised I hadn't been hauled away to jail yet, since I stopped attending my community service. Maybe they didn't know where to find me. Maybe I was a man on the run, a fugitive. When Riku and Naminé were gone, I kept all the curtains closed for good measure.

In the kitchen, I poked around for a snack, but then the thought of food make me nauseous and I threw up in the sink, all over their matching coffee mugs. I rinsed them and went off on an adventure to find some pain killers, finding a lucky stash of Vicodin in their bathroom medicine cabinet. I tried watching some television, but I was barely coherent. The news was on, something about wars or guns or politics. Or maybe it wasn't the news, maybe it was a talk-show, or QVC. The world around me was muddled and nonsensical, my bones were heavy. I drank some more.

"… Is he dead?"

"We can only be so lucky, Nami."

"He doesn't look so good."

A soft hand caressed my face and I leaned into it.

"See? He's alive. Just a little fucked up." I faintly heard the rattling of pills in a bottle. "He got into the heavy pain meds. Maybe we should invest in one of those child-locks."

"He's in a bad way, Riku. Should we, like, intervene or something? He's our friend and he's hurting."

"He's fine, he's healing. You have to peel off the scab for the cut to get better. Oh, and make sure he stays on his side so he doesn't choke on his own vomit."

When I woke up, I was back in the guest room and it was a new day.

You never forget your first time.

No matter how bad or awkward or spectacularly unspectacular, it's emblazoned in your memory, a milestone for your transcendence into the world of sexual activity. In a society where your worth is simultaneously correlated to both the amount of sex you get and don't get, it's hard to not put a value on your virginity or lack thereof. And when you grow up in the system, you don't really have any knowledgeable resources about sex, all your information comes from movies, late night television, and rap music. Your views on sex will probably skewed, and, in my case, carry absolutely no romantic or biological implication. You don't have sex for love or procreation, you have sex because it makes you feel powerful, and it makes your dick feel good.

I lost my virginity when I was fourteen. Her name was Aurora and she was a sweet Christian girl who saw the good in everyone. We were partners in chemistry, and she'd look up at me with hopeful eyes, tucking a piece of her wavy blonde hair behind her ear. Blondes, I knew by this point, were my absolute weakness. Gods and goddesses with sunshine framing their faces, soft golden crowns.

Aurora knew I was a shithead, I already had a reputation, but she thought deep-down I was a gentle soul that was just waiting to be saved. She was the kind of girl that wore sweaters and knee-length skirts, who carried her binder close to her chest and smiled at teachers in the hallway. Part of me found it endearing, while the other part of me found it annoying. One day, while we were walking to the library together, she asked me if I'd like to have dinner at her house while we worked on our science project. I laughed in her face and implied I'd burst into flames if confronted with the holiness of her home. But later, while having a laugh about it with my friends, one of them said, "Why don't you go? Maybe you can fuck her."

That got my hormones into overdrive.

Long story short, I did fuck her. On her frilly pink bed, under the cross on her wall, after some coaxing. To her, we were probably making love. But in those thirty seconds, I was experiencing pure selfish bliss. There wasn't a person beneath me, just an instrument in my pleasure. I came inside her, and she cuddled close to me like she had just saved my soul. And maybe, in a way, she did. I don't know.

I didn't really talk to her after that. I felt guilty and didn't want to admit it. Rumor has it that she got pregnant, had an abortion, and was never the same. But it's just that, a rumor. I taught her a valuable lesson in that not everyone is a good person.

Last I heard of her, she got into a bad car accident and was in a coma. How's that for divine retribution?

"I don't believe you," Ansem said, his nose in the air, as he nonchalantly waved me off with the hand that wasn't gripped around his glass of sangria.

"No, I'm serious. He kissed me. It was fuckin' weird."

"What kind of fucked-up incestual undertones are you trying to apply to this story?"

"I'm not trying to paint a sexy picture for you, Ansem, I'm just giving you the run-down. He kissed me out of nowhere, and then it turns out I fucked his girlfriend a couple months ago at Riku and Naminé's party."

"No."

"Yeah! Wild, right? So, our wieners have probably indirectly touched."

"Does he know you had sex with his girlfriend?"

"Nah, I wanted to tell him though, before I left. But it wouldn't have been fair to Xion. She's not the enemy here."

"So then what? You just left?"

I chugged some of my beer and suppressed a burp. "I mean, yeah, pretty much. I wasn't wanted. But I kissed Roxas before I left, though. To show him who's boss."

Ansem raised an eyebrow at me. "To show him who's boss? Geez, Axel. That's pretty homo."

"Yeah, you're right," I sighed. "Is it gross if I liked it? I mean, he's like seventeen, and he's my mom's stepson. Fuck, I'm disgusting. It just sounds super creepy when I say it out loud. And I don't actually like him, ya'know? I guess I'm just jealous. I dunno," I rambled. "He's cute and vulnerable when he's not being a little shit. Like an armadillo."

"Why isn't there an HBO drama series about your life yet?"

"That's the million dollar question."

We were sitting at the bar in some chain restaurant catching up and I had just finished detailing the events of the past month and half. We nibbled on mozzarella sticks and drank cheap drinks since apparently Wednesday afternoon was happy hour. Ansem was happy to see me, and I was happy to see him. I offered to pay for our lunch date, since my intention was to butter him up so he'd let me move back into his apartment.

"So are you back here for good?" He asked.

I thought for a moment. "Yeah, I think so. I came to the revelation that I'm better off on my own. I don't need some hag's money or pity." The bartender came around and picked up my credit card. "Well," I said, "I guess the money isn't too bad."

Ansem and I shared a chuckle.

"So…" I trailed off, folding my arms behind my head.

"You want your room back?"

"Are you offering?"

"It's yours," he said. "On one condition."

"And what's that?"

"I've known you for a couple years, Axel. I don't know your whole life story, but I know what kind of person you are. You need closure. Just running without another word is just going to leave a lot of feelings and unanswered questions hanging in the air, a lot of what-ifs and conflictions. Go back to your mother's and sort it out. And then you can have your room back."

I chewed on my bottom lip, scraping off the dry skin. "That's, uh, pretty presumptuous of you, Ansem."

"Look, Axel, I'm old, I've been through my own fair share of shit. Life is unfair and cruel. But nothing is worse than wondering if you could've done something different, if your actions could've changed the outcome. When I came out to my mother many, many years ago, she called me all sorts of nasty things, and I told her I wished she was dead. And guess what? She died shortly after, and that was the last thing I said to her. Would she have died if I hadn't wished for it? She wasn't the kindest woman, but she was my mother. Maybe I could've made her understand, maybe I could've helped her accept me. But I'll never know." He took a drink. "Maybe you should hear your mother out. Maybe you should give your family a chance. Or at least say goodbye, chalk it up to a small adventure in your hectic life, and move on knowing where you stand, so you don't go the rest of your life what would've happened if you hadn't left."

The bartender dropped off the receipt and I scribbled my signature and a fat tip, while letting Ansem's words stew around in my mind.

"You don't have to decide now, just think about it, okay? Are you ready to go?"

On the ride back to Riku and Naminé's, I stared out the window and didn't say much. We pulled up just as Naminé was getting home from work and she walked over to my door and leaned over the open window. "Hey Ansem, thanks for getting him home safe."

"My pleasure, doll. He was very well-behaved, I'd love to take him out again soon."

She chuckled and opened the door for me.

"See ya, Ansem," I mumbled.

Inside, Naminé propped her easel up in the living room and began painting. I intended on retreating to the guest room and taking a nap, but decided to linger because I realized I didn't want to be alone. I was sick of being alone. She smiled at me as I pulled up a chair next to her. "Need any help?" I asked her.

"No, do you?"

I pressed my lips into a hard line and nodded.

She set her paintbrush aside and wrapped her small arms around me. I hugged her back, burying my face in her hair, reveling in the warmth of physical contact.

"Should I go back?" I asked, my words muffled.

"What does your heart say?"

"Be serious, Naminé. You know I don't have a heart."

She disengaged the hug and rested her palm on the side of my face, gently caressing me. "You have a bigger heart than you think. Stop selling yourself short."

"I just wanted a mom."

"I know, Axel."

"I just want to be loved."

"I know, Axel."

"Do you like your parents?"

"Well, you've met my mom, she's a lot like me. And my dad is very no-nonsense. But they put me through school and call every Sunday, so I can't complain."

"What about Riku's parents?"

"They're nice enough."

"Do you think either of them would want to adopt a slightly damaged yet incredibly charming redhead?" Despite my heavy face muscles, I gave her the best innocent boyish grin I could muster. "I'm great company."

She softly laughed, giving me a pat on the shoulder. "Be careful, you don't want to start a family feud over who gets to adopt you. Our parents already don't get along too well."

"You and Riku can adopt me."

"Number one, you're older than us. Number two, we basically have adopted you already. We feed you and bathe you, and give you a warm bed. We also make sure you don't die. That's a parent's job first and foremost, you know."

"Well, I'm not dead yet, so I guess you guys are doing a great job."

Another day. Same shit. This time, at least, I didn't puke.

I rolled out of bed and winced at the smell emanating from my pits.

I pulled some wrinkled garments from my hamper, preparing to take a nice hot shower. And I was almost out the door when there was an aggressive knocking from the other side.

"Yo, Ax, wake the fuck up" Riku called out before I had a chance to open it. When I did, he was standing with his hip cocked, a towel around his waist, and a toothbrush hanging from between his lips.

"Good morning to you too, sunshine. You look nice."

"Ah, bite me. Your little visitor interrupted my beautification process."

"Hah, you need more than a process for— wait, did you say a visitor? For me? Is it Ansem?"

"Nope. Close though."

I tried to peer past him in the doorway but he intentionally blocked my view. "Well, who is it?"

"I'll give you a hint."

"Okay…"

"Hitler babies."

My eyes widened. "What the fuck? Roxas is here? In the townhouse? Why?"

"Hey, I'm not your secretary. He showed up and asked for you and now I have him waiting in the living room and Naminé is still asleep so I can't get her to entertain him so you need to get your ass out there. I don't trust him by himself. He looks like he has a psychotic streak."

"Are you naked under that towel?"

He glared at me. "Don't stall, get out there."

"But I don't want to see him. Plus, I smell like road kill. Take a message?"

Riku roughly grabbed me by the arm and steered me out towards the living room, against my protests, where, true to his word, Roxas was sitting on the sofa, flipping through some coffee table book about Indian architecture. He looked up at me and grimaced, probably because I looked like shit. My roots were coming in, I looked tired and oily, and I was just in a pair of cruddy boxers and old Christmas socks with faded reindeers on them.

"Bad time?" He asked, a hint of something I couldn't discern in his voice. Distress?

Riku gave me a pat on the shoulder and whispered "go get 'em tiger" in my ear before going back upstairs to resume his beauty regime. I stood awkwardly, shifting my weight from one foot to the other. My mouth felt like terrycloth. I wanted a drink.

"So," Roxas began, setting the book down and adjusting the collar on his blue polo. "I took a shot in the dark about where to find you. I figured you'd either be here or with the guy you used to live with."

"What do you want?" I asked, sounding harsher than intended. No, I thought to myself, I'm perfectly justified in my virulence.

"I want you to come back."

I crossed my arms over my chest. "Why?"

He was silent for a moment, carefully thinking his next words through.

"Well?"

Exasperated, he sighed. "Because we want you there. All of us. Mom, dad, Kairi…" He took a deep breath. "And me. It's not the same without you there, okay?"

"You guys got along just fine the past seventeen years without me."

"In mine and Kairi's defense, we didn't know you existed. Don't be upset with us over your circumstances."

"I'm not. I'm upset because you're a little shit-eater. We were fine up until your stunt in your room, and suddenly I'm once again the bad guy, the criminal, the drug-addict. This is hard for me too, Roxas. I don't know how to feel about anything, and then you come along and make it all about you."

"I'm sorry," Roxas mumbled. "You're right, I've been selfish. My brain is fried and I'm tired of everything, and I thought you were the problem, but you're not. In fact, you've been helping. I know you're not fond of me, and maybe even jealous and resentful, but I enjoy your company. I don't have to try to impress you or be something I'm not, and you call me out on my bullshit. You're not an awful person, I know that. I'm sorry, Axel. Please come back."

I wanted to stay upset, but I just couldn't. I just felt defeated. "Did someone put you up to this?" I asked him.

"No. This is me trying to do the right thing."

"Noted. Now I'm going to take a shower and you're going to leave."

"Wait, what? Why? I'm here pouring my heart out."

"As nice a gesture as that may be, I'm over the whole thing. I'm twenty-five, Roxas, I can live my own life. So that's what I'm going to do. Thanks for stopping by."

Before he could sputter out a response, I quickly turned and retreated into the bathroom and locked the door behind me. I turned on the shower as hot as it would go, stripped, and let the water burn away my feelings. I didn't know what I wanted. From him, from my mother, or from myself. I scrubbed my skin raw, hoping maybe the answers to all of my dilemmas rested beneath my epidermis.

Did they really want me back? What did they gain from me taking up space in their daily lives? Was I just a key to their repentance? What did they see when they looked at me, with my tattoos and dyed hair and bad posture? A chance for redemption? Good karma? Brownie points with god?

More importantly, did I want them in my life? I knew the answer, but hated admitting it to myself. My pathological need to belong and be liked put me at their mercy.

I probably spent forty minutes in the shower. When I got out, I couldn't see anything in the bathroom on account to the copious amount of steam, and my pores thanked me for the liberation. I felt around for a towel and wiped off the mirror over the sink so I could look at myself. It's funny how no matter how ugly we think we are, we are still fascinated and enamored by our own reflections. I saw my mother in my features. In a way, she'd been with me all along. Was my father with me, too? I wish I knew him.

After drying off and brushing my teeth, I dipped out, quickly slipping into the guest room with a sigh. My plans for the rest of the day involved heading out, getting drunk, and having sloppy sex with a stranger. Anything to prevent myself from thinking. With my back turned, I grabbed the clothes I had picked out earlier and was about to drop my towel when someone cleared their throat. I yelped and jerked towards the sound, and it was just Roxas sitting on my freshly made bed, poking around on his overpriced cell phone.

"Holy shit!" I yelled, as my heart rate steadied.

"You're not getting rid of me so easily, Axel," he casually stated, his eyes not leaving the screen.

"Get the fuck out, I'm naked!"

"Don't pretend like you're modest."

I took a deep breath. "Please leave. Go home. I have plans."

"What? Get drunk? Do drugs? Have intercourse with strangers?" My mouth hung agape as I came to the conclusion that he had mind-reading powers. Upon assessing my reaction, he raised his eyebrow. "What? Why are you looking at me like that? Was I accurate in my assumption?"

With a disheartened slump of my shoulders, I sat on the edge of the bed. "What will it take to get you to go home?"

"Well, you can start by telling me why you and Xion were acting weird towards each other that night."

"Xion?" I feigned ignorance.

"Don't play coy. I've known Xion for several years and I know when something's up. Do you guys know each other?"

"Is that why you're really here? To give me the third-degree?"

"Not entirely. I do want you to come back. And you have to finish your community service. Mom can only tell them you're sick for a little bit longer. I think her next plan is to tell them you have inoperable cancer or something. Or that you died. I don't know. But seriously, Axel, where do you know Xion from?"

"I really don't know Xion. I met her that night and she seemed very nice. Her dad seemed like a asshole, though."

Roxas threw his phone to the side and put his face into his hands. He let out a groan. "Axel," he said, his voice muffled, "I know Xion gets into trouble. I just want to know what kind. Do you guys share a drug dealer and met in passing? Does she frequent parties?"

"How old is Xion?"

"Eighteen."

I breathed a sigh of relief.

He picked his head up and gave me a look, as if all the pieces were coming together. "Oh my god," he mouthed. I chewed on my lower lip. "You had sex with her?"

"Way before I kn—" I was about to explain when all of a sudden there was a weight on me and I was off the bed and on the ground. There was a blow to my jaw.

"I fucking knew it." Hearing Roxas use the f-word was like hearing a little kid say it. "You're a scheming degenerate. I don't know how you found out about her, or how you coerced her—"

"Roxas! This was bef—"

He hit me again, and this time something in me snapped and I threw him off of me, causing him to land against the bureau and let out a painful hiss. I got up and grabbed him by the collar of his shirt, pulling him up to eyelevel with the strength adrenaline granted me. "Listen, you little piece of shit, this was before I knew you. How was I supposed to know that some random girl I fucked at a party would be the little girlfriend of the son my mom picked over me, huh?" I slammed him against the bureau. "Huh? Fucking riddle me that." My anger started to subside and I looked at Roxas's flushed, tear-stained face. I dropped him and he crumpled to the floor.

During the tussle, my towel came off, so I quickly slipped on my boxers and stood over Roxas, whose eyes were glued to the ground. I silently offered him my hand, and to my surprise he took it. I helped him up and guided him to the bed. He winced in pain when he sat.

"I'm sorry," I murmured.

"Me too," he responded in a voice no louder than mine.

We marinated in awkward silence until he spoke up again. "Hey Axel?"

"Hm?"

"You were right."

"About?"

But he didn't tell me. Instead he leaned forward and kissed me. Without thinking it through, I kissed him back. I gently guided him onto his back and he wrapped his arms around me as I climbed on top of him. Kissing him felt wrong, but it only made me want to do it more. Maybe he felt the same way. After what felt like an eternity, we separated, both of us out of breath like we just ran a marathon.

"I don't understand it," he said between breaths. "Why do I like you so much?"

"I don't know," I said. "But I'm not complaining."

We locked lips again.

"Is your face okay?" He asked when we pulled apart again.

"Probably. How's your back?"

"It hurts. But I deserved it."

"Yeah," I agreed. "Maybe I did, too." I rolled off of him and laid on my back with my eyes to the ceiling. "I'm sorry about Xion. I really didn't know. This was before I showed up to the house that one day. Before I broke in."

"What a small world."

"Small and fucked up."

"Like me."

"Yeah," I agreed again. "Like you." He turned to glare at me and I chuckled.

"This is the most ridiculous situation," he said. "You had sex with my girlfriend and then we made out. Not to mention, we share a mom."

"You forget to mention the part where you randomly kissed me and then ignored me for several weeks."

"I was scared."

"Of what?"

"Of wanting to do it again."

"What do you want from me, Roxas?"

"I want you to come back, and I want to pretend like this never happened."

"If that's the case, can I have a little more before we go back to hating each other?"

I didn't have to ask twice, and we were on each other again with no time to waste. Roxas kissed with such desperation, like this was the last bit of physical affection he'd receive ever again. And I matched it, because I craved the contact. He had coffee breath, and even the bitterness tasted sweet on his tongue. It all felt like a dream that I never wanted to wake up from.

"Uh, I don't mean to interrupt, but Roxas is parked behind me and I have to run some errands."

We froze and slowly looked towards the doorway where Naminé was politely smiling.

"Oh, um, I'm sorry about that," Roxas said in a shaky voice. "I'll get going. But I'll be back later to get Axel." He wiggled out from under me and shamefully slinked out of the room. Me and Naminé remained motionless until we heard the opening and closing of the front door. I collapsed onto the bed where Roxas's body had been just moments before.

"This is a new development," Naminé said. "Sorry to barge in, but I knocked a few times. I have to deliver some artwork for a showing today. Though, I'm glad it was that, since by the sound of things, you guys were fighting. I didn't want our guest room to be a crime scene for murder."

I didn't say anything because I didn't know what to say.

"Never a dull moment with you, Axel. Want to take a ride with me to the gallery? We need to spend time together before you leave again."