...there are no excuses for this. None. Except I was wondering why the hell people are so fond of AU's, and somehow I sat down and wrote this. I- I'm kind of afraid I'm going to continue it just for the sake of putting in all of Organization XIII.

All right, then. Main pairings are Roxas x Axel and probably Larxene x Naminé eventually. Warnings for horrible title, lack of plot, badly characterized Demyx, and Larxene being foulmouthed liek whoa. Have fun?

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1.

There were several hundred things Larxene could think of that were better than standing at a bus stop payphone with an overstuffed suitcase beside her and trying not to die of heatstroke.

But being able to do most of them would have required not having given her parents the finger and bought a bus ticket to the next state, which had just maybe not been the most rational decision. Oh, it made perfect sense, in theory. She was an adult. Of course she was perfectly capable of moving out in the middle of the summer just to escape them. Maybe the bastards back home would even bother to let her have her stuff back eventually.

Except somehow she was left with the feeling that things were about to go horribly, horribly wrong.

The phone finally stopped ringing as the answering machine picked up with a beep, and Marluxia's voice came on, sounding ineffably bored and superior, but then that was normal for him. Larxene was just gearing up for a ten minute rant on him not being around to save her from the heat, when the recording's content finally sunk in. He hadn't stepped out of the house for a minute, he was gone. To Europe. For the next month.

A month. An entire fucking month, and he hadn't even thought to mention it to her. (Or maybe he had and it had slipped her mind, but she been under just a little bit of stress lately.)

Well. No fucking way was she getting back on another bus and going home again after that fiasco. She'd just have to-- find some other place to stay. There were other people in this city she knew, weren't there?

What she thought of were half a dozen first names and a distinct lack of anything else, and she'd actually started flipping through the phonebook before she realized what an idiot she was being.

She was absolutely screwed, and even the thought of what she would have to say to Marluxia when she finally saw him again couldn't do much to improve her mood. Because really, what could she say. "Oh, hello, Marluxia, I've been living on the streets for a month because you are an overprivileged fruity bastard, thank you so much."

Larxene hurled the phonebook to the ground and resisted the temptation to stomp on it, then blinked and bent down to look more closely.

It had fallen open to a random page. At the very top of which, looking horribly innocent, was

Conway, Axel.

... she knew an Axel. It was almost like fate. Or doom.

Oh, why the hell not.

He laughed at her. He probably had every right to laugh at her, which didn't keep her from yelling at him for it and glaring daggers at him when she showed up on his doorstep an hour later.

"Larxene. Riiiight, I remember you." Axel's grin was slightly less than sane. "And I haven't seen you since high school, so what the fuck are you doing here? You were just a little incoherent on the phone."

Larxene considered attempting to plaster a saccharine-sweet smile onto her face, but decided against it. She didn't do bubbly and cheerful. "I need a place to stay for a month, and you're going to give me one."

"I see you're crazy as ever, Larx—"

"And I still hate that fucking nickname."

"I wouldn't have used it otherwise," said Axel, beaming. "You still haven't explained why you're begging a virtual stranger for a place to stay, and why the hell you think I'd give you one out of the goodness of my heart."

Larxene twitched. "I can pay, asshole. You want your rent for the next month covered?"

Axel put a hand to his forehead and hemmed and hawed exaggeratedly. "Now, while I can't deny that would be nice, because I'm kind of broke, it would also mean putting up with the craziest bitch I've ever dealt with, and believe me when I say I've dealt with a lot of crazy bitches…"

She was five seconds afraid from marching out the door when Axel grinned more insanely than ever. "But hey, I'm a decent guy. It's a deal!"

She shook the hand he offered, and made a point of wiping her hand on her jeans afterwards. "Right. Thanks. Not. Now, a few rules. You don't bother me, I don't bother you. You don't mess with my stuff, I don't touch yours. And whatever skanky girlfriend you've got right now, I don't want to see her. We can work everything else out later, I just spent nine hours on a bus and I think I'm going to bed."

Axel was left staring after her as she spun on her heel and ventured deeper into the apartment. "Larx, wait—"

Larxene slammed the door in his face and stalked into the bedroom, wondering whether she'd be insane within a week or if it would only take until the next day. She jerked back the ratty bedspread and collapsed with a squeak of bedsprings. This was only going to last until she got a job and a place to stay, or at worst until Marluxia reappeared. She could put up with Axel until then. She could--

Something moved.

There was a lump under the blankets. A suspiciously human-shaped lump. A lump that said Axel and put an arm around her from behind and made an incoherent noise of horror when it ended up with a handful of breast.

Larxene yelled too, and there was a brief peaceful moment while both of them were too confused to act, and then an explosion of motion as they both scrambled apart. They ended up tangled in the sheets, and the lump toppled out of bed and landed facedown on the floor. Larxene staggered backwards across the room and blinked. A mess of dirty blond hair with an epic case of bedhead, and an ass that she might have appreciated if it hadn't been for the fact that Axel had undoubtedly been appreciating it at some point in the recent past. And a distinct absence of clothes.

"Who the hell are you?" the kid demanded once he'd clambered to his feet wielding a strategically placed corner of the sheets, and then much more loudly, " AXEL. What the HELL."

"GODDAMNIT AXEL," Larxene repeated with equal fervor, and took the most sensible course of action, which was to grab the boy by the back of his neck and hurl him forcibly out into the hall, where Axel looked suspiciously like he'd been laughing. "What the fuck is this?"

"This is...not my skanky girlfriend?" Axel cheerfully ignored the smoldering glares they both directed at him. "For god's sake, Roxas, put some pants on. ...Or don't, if Larxy doesn't mind."

The blond groaned. "If the word threesome leaves your mouth I will kill you."

"You'll have to beat me to it," said Larxene.

"Well isn't this awkward," said Axel, sounding far more malicious than his innocent expression warranted. "I did try to tell you—"

"I should have known," Larxene said. "You and your fucking eyeliner."

Axel ignored her. "Now, where are my manners? Roxas, Larxene. Larxene, Roxas. You two play nice now."

"Roxas, huh?" Larxene looked down at him and shook her head. "Didn't know you went for grade schoolers, Axel."

"I'm sixteen," said Roxas, from where he was still sitting on the floor being naked and infuriated, and apparently oblivious to the fact that that still made him six years younger than Axel. "At least I think so."

"You think. What the hell, brat, how do you not know how old you are?"

"Thaaaat's kind of a long story," Axel started to say.

Roxas rolled his eyes. "No it isn't. He found me half-dead on the beach, and I told him that all I could remember was my name. And threatened to kill him horribly if he went to the authorities, apparently."

"Then you passed out and I took you home," Axel said fondly. "Like a lost puppy who happened to be extremely good in bed."

"…like a puppy," said Roxas. "Sure. Whatever you want to think."

Larxene blinked. "I have no idea what to say to that, so I'm going to pretend I never heard it." This was insane. She could be in Marluxia's flawlessly decorated highrise apartment right now admiring the flower arrangements. And wondering why she still had a so-called boyfriend who lived in a flawlessly decorated apartment with flower arrangements and spent more time on his hair than she did, but. Anything was better than Axel.

"Admit it," said Axel, "you're just jealous of his dramatic backstory—"

At which point he was hit in the face by the pile of sheets Larxene had just flung out of the bedroom door "Where can I wash these?" she demanded, stomping out after them, while Roxas darted past her and seized a pair of boxers triumphantly.

Axel blinked. "You think you're sleeping in there? It seems to me that there's two of us and one of you, and it would make so more sense to let you take the couch."

"I know you, Axel," Larxene said, "and the couch cannot be washed."

There was a contemplative sort of silence. "I that case I guess it's a good thing the kitchen counter can be," Roxas's voice echoed from the bedroom, half-muffled by the shirt he was pulling on. "And the shower. And the wall. And the living room floor. And—"

"LAUNDROMAT. WHERE."

"There's one next door," said Roxas, re-emerging now that he was not in face naked.

"Thank you-- wait." Larxene glared at both of them. "I'm not thanking you. I'm leaving. Temporarily. But permanently as soon as Marluxia comes back."

"You're still with that fruitcake?" Axel asked with a smirk. "God, Larx, every man you sleep with does turn out to be--"

"Die."

Four weeks, she told herself, glaring at the washing machine. Four weeks. She could survive this. It couldn't be that bad.

Just a life full of moldy pizza boxes and Axel and his underaged amnesiac boytoy going at it at all hours of the day and night.

She was going to kill Marluxia.

...if the blond kid with the ridiculous hair who'd just sat down across from her started talking, she was going to kill him, too.

"Uh, hey, I'm Demyx, and—"

"Did I look like I wanted to talk to you?" snapped Larxene.

"Aw, don't be mad," he said, shrinking back a bit against the row of dryers. "It's just that I have the apartment across from Axel's and if you're moving in it's like we're neighbors now. I thought we could get to know each—"

"I'm not sticking around this pit for very long," Larxene said, and Demyx shot her his best kicked-puppy look. Unfortunately, she was in a mood where murdering puppies looked downright delightful.

"You looked like you'd be nicer than him, anyway," Demyx concluded lamely, jerking his head at the laundomat's only other occupant. Which was probably true, Larxene had to admit, considering that 'he' was built like a linebacker and looked no more interested than she was in being annoyed by idiots with extremely bad hair.

…A linebacker who was reading Dostoyevsky. Apparently Axel lived in the Apartment Complex Of Complete Weirdos.

"I hate the world," Larxene remarked to the air, but the blond refused to take the hint.

"Things can't be that bad!" he chirped, and she found herself wishing for a blunt object to bludgeon him to death with.

"Oh, of course they aren't. I'm just stuck living with the world's biggest asshole and an escapee from a soap opera, I've never been better, did I mention I fucking hate you, too?"

Demyx pouted. "Y'know, you're kind of cute when you're all pissed off like that. You sort of— sputter. And I swear the pointy bits of your hair stick up even more."

The minutes were ticking by at a glacial rate of speed, and damn it, mulletboy had no right to insult her hair.

The musclebound geek across the room stopped folding clothes to answer his cell phone and blithely assure the person on the other end that yes, he'd be cooking dinner tonight, no, Zexion, you don't need to pick up groceries—

"Oh, hey," Demyx prattled on, "I'd tell you about my band, except it kind of only has me in it right now so I don't think you can call it a band…"

Larxene contemplated dismembering small woodland animals.

Four weeks.

It was going to feel like eternity.