Setting it up, kids. Setting it up for the fun stuff to start happening. But look, two chapters in two days. If I don't fuck around I might start feeling like a writer again.
I have nothing else to say except I hope you enjoy it. This one came easy, but who knows about the next one? We'll just have to wait and see.
Something was happening. Something was changing.
He peered down at the blond from the corner of his eye, nonchalantly so as not to draw any undue attention. Something had already changed in that respect, the air around him having shifted and taken on an electric quality – Axel, having previously thought that it would have been a lot more difficult to get him to agree to accompany him anywhere, congratulated himself on that small victory.
Reaching into his jacket pocket, he drew out the Zippo lighter that had started this whole thing and began flicking it rhythmically open and closed. He felt the eyes on him, the curve of a small mouth in irritation – dipping his free hand into another deep pocket, he extracted a battered box of clove cigarettes and lit one, inhaling deeply.
"Ugh, you smoke?"
The redhead cocked his head to the side, a crimson brow creeping slowly upward as a small, steady stream of pale smoke spilled from his mouth. "Be kind of difficult to own a smoke shop if I couldn't stand the smell of tobacco, don't you think?"
Roxas grimaced and waved a hand in front of his face. "Tolerance is one thing, but does that mean you have to immerse yourself in it?" He began walking a bit faster, presumably to distance himself from the smell. Axel grinned and caught up with him easily, his slow strides matching the other's hurried steps as though he were merely chasing after a rampant toddler. Gripping the filter loosely between thumb and forefinger, he held the cigarette out to the blond. "Try it. You might like it."
The other curled his lip, shook his head fervently. "Don't think so."
"You never know you like something until you try it, Rox."
"Stop calling me that. And I'm pretty sure I don't have to try a fucking cigarette to know that I don't want my mouth tasting like an ashtray."
The redhead rolled his eyes skyward, bringing the filter to his mouth and taking a longer drag than before. He then grabbed the other's arm, twisting him around and sealing their lips together – he exhaled slowly, passing the smallest bit of musky smoke between them before Roxas pulled sharply away, clapping a hand over his mouth and trying not to cough.
"What the fuck, Axel?"
He grinned, absently licking his lips. "That wasn't so bad, was it?"
The blond glared daggers, blue eyes hard and glittering as his own tongue darted out, passing briefly over his bottom lip. A mask of confusion furrowed his brows, a corner of his curling not in disgust, but … curiosity? He looked up, looking as though he was about to say something, but wasn't quite sure what it was. "It .. it's sweet."
Axel laughed. "Yeah, it's the filter. They're flavored. Want to try it for yourself, or should I set you up again?" The other blushed deeply, averting his gaze; he shook his head slowly, still unsure, but took the cigarette when it was held out to him again. He scrutinized it, until the redhead laughed softly again and he flushed even an even deeper shade of pink.
"Don't take too big of a drag … they might be smooth, but it'll still burn your throat if you're not careful. You being a newbie and all, I don't want this to be a bad first experience."
Roxas snorted. "I bet you do buy these things for minors, you're such a goddamned bad influence ..."
They walked in relative silence, Axel peering over every so often to watch as the blond took small puffs from the slow-burning clove, breath never catching once. He never coughed, and much to his surprise, expertly flicked the butt away when he was finished. He was a natural. The redhead grinned and shook his head, lighting another for himself as they turned a corner and began down a small side-street. Almost there.
He almost enjoyed the silence – the lack of a need for anything to say to fill it was nice, and not something he experienced often. It was more common, for whatever reason, for people to start rambling endlessly around him; which, truth be told, was one thing he really couldn't stand. There was one particular customer that came into his shop – an elderly man with no family and all the time in the world to wile away – who saw fit to visit every other day regardless of whether he'd run out of cigars. He would lean with a hip propped against the front counter, arms folded over his chest and spout off any anecdote that crossed his mind … whether it was how many men he killed in World War II or the names of every dog he ever owned, and what breed they were, and how old they were when they finally keeled over. It was enough to drive any man to extremes, the worst of which happened to be the faking of a text message telling of a family member in the hospital – but it worked, and Axel had just managed not to set the whole place on fire in a fit of madness. Now, whenever he saw the man ambling up the sidewalk, he conveniently disappeared into the back room and let his brother handle whatever stories he had on deck that day.
Serves him right … for being the fucking lazy bum he is in the first place.
He took one last drag on the clove between his fingers, breathing deeply and almost purring as he tossed the butt into the gutter. Releasing the smoke through his nose, he reached into his pocket for a set of keys as they came upon the familiar, ornate wrought-iron security door. "Here we are," came his soft admission, key turning in the lock as he twisted the handle and pulled the door open. "My pride and joy … and the reason I don't sleep on park benches."
Roxas looked up at the sign hanging just over the threshold. "You named it 'Burn'?"
The redhead shrugged, leading the way inside. A light switch was flipped somewhere along the way, and the interior was bathed in a dull, warm glow. "What would you have called it?" Silence followed the question as the blond looked around, taking in the small but organized space – wood paneled walls with heavy shelves holding cigar boxes and tins, the smaller wire racks that housed containers of chewing tobacco. He picked up a box of apple-flavored Black and Milds, looking utterly perplexed. "I dunno … but it would have been something more original, I'm sure."
Axel huffed and hopped up onto the counter, folding his legs beneath him and settling his elbows on his knees. "Because you're just brimming with creativity, right?" A smirk ghosted over his mouth as he watched the blond continue slowly around the shop, picking up packages here and there and studying them. He paused over a package of Swisher Sweets, brows furrowing again. "Are these the cigarillos you were talking about?" Turning the box over in his hands, he snorted and looked back up, completely unimpressed. "I don't see what's so special about them."
"Well, if they're the ones with tips, they aren't so special. They're just like the Black and Milds you picked up over there … basically the same thing, just made by a different company." He paused, reaching inside his jacket for the nearly empty box of cloves. "Now, if they're the ones without tips, those are the ones that are in such high demand." The Zippo flipped open and the tiny flame burned brightly for a split second before the top snapped back down into place; he spoke around the filter, voice muffled only slightly as his mouth puckered just enough to keep it in place. "Can't keep the damn things on the shelf."
Roxas squinted at the various boxes in front of him, as though trying to figure out exactly what made them so desirable. They all looked the same, except for the boasting on certain packages of grape or strawberry flavoring. Oh, wait, there was peach over there. Maybe that was something … He shrugged, coming around to where the redhead sat on the counter. "I still don't get it, but okay."
Axel blew a puff of smoke at the blond, grinning as the remainder of his cigarette was snatched away and set between a pair of pale pink lips. "The thing is, not everyone that comes in here smokes just tobacco. Those wishing to … alter their mental state for a brief period of time buy those, slit them open and remove the innards. If you think carefully, I bet you'd be able to guess what they put back in them."
Blue eyes widened and then narrowed. "Why waste the money, though? Why don't they just … buy rolling papers like everyone else?"
"Because rolling paper doesn't taste good, Rox. And neither does weed, if you get the good stuff."
The blond coughed and sputtered, giving Axel the opportunity to snatch the clove back and set it promptly in the corner of his mouth. With a slightly bemused look painted across his face, he watched as the other regained his breath and looked up in mild amusement. "Don't tell me you're a fucking stoner, too."
"Nah … just every once in a while for recreation." He crushed the filter in an ashtray nearly hidden beneath his right knee, emerald eyes fixing the other with an almost wary gaze. "Not gonna judge me on that too, are you?"
Silence gathered as Roxas resumed his lazy stroll around the room, trailing his fingers lightly over the small, cellophane-wrapped boxes. "I don't judge … I just collect information and store it away for safekeeping." As he came back around the counter, he stopped just before a closed door and leaned against the wall, arms folding over his chest. "What's in there?"
The redhead waved a dismissive hand. "Nothing important. What I'm wondering is, why the sudden interest in a guy you just met?" He chewed the edge of his lip as an afterthought as he waited for a reply, drawing his legs up to his chest and resting his chin on his knees. The boards beneath the other's feet creaked softly as he shifted his weight from one foot to the other, apparently intent on keeping that particular bit of information to himself. "I told you … I just like knowing things. You never know when something abstract might come in useful."
"I'm abstract, huh? Can't say I've ever been called that before." The blond's head snapped up and for a moment he looked uneasy, the blue of his eyes darkening the slightest bit before he straightened away from the wall and smiled weakly. He shrugged, reaching back to rake a hand through his messy hair. "I'm a Psych major. I'm programmed to find interest in the abnormal."
"Oh now I'm abnormal, huh? What's next?"
He was staring at him again. There was something about him, something that had changed even since they'd stepped foot inside the shop. The way he had to touch everything, scrutinize every little piece of information placed before him – it was strange, and yet Axel found himself drawn even more to the center of his existence. It wasn't so much the fact that he was being observed that intrigued him; it was why. He remembered the day before, the inability even then to look away from him for too long. The thought that even though he was outwardly nothing special, there might be … There had to be some reason he was still interested, and he wanted to pinpoint that reason before he got himself into trouble.
Funny, how I'm the one that started this whole thing. That my observing you apparently piqued your interest, and here you are, staring at me as though you've just figured me out completely. Is that what you have to feel cocky about? You think you can have everything taken apart, study it, and put it back together? Well … I'm one tough nut to crack, kid. But I'll be goddamned if I don't wish you'll stick around to try.
He'd almost forgotten to breathe again.
"Psych major, huh? Analyze me, baby."
Roxas laughed, a short exhalation before he caught himself and stood straight. He circled the counter as though looking the redhead up and down, chewing absently on a thumbnail as he went. Stopping just in front of him, he braced his hands on either side of his worn Chucks and grinned. "You're an idiot. Analysis complete."
Axel curled his lip into a half-sneer. "I hardly think that's fair. You don't know me well enough to make that assertion." The other shrugged again, blue eyes lighting up the smallest bit. "Well, let's see … you appear to spend the majority of your free time in a bar, which in itself screams half-wit. You smoke, which is an inclination that you don't care about your health – and you smoke weed, which is just fucking stupid in its own right." He leaned in, nearly nose-to-nose with the redhead. "Care to offer a rebuttal?"
Oh, hell, you're just setting yourself up for this, aren't you?
"I'll stick with my initial statement … you don't know me well enough." Without even a second breath, he closed the gap between them and pecked lightly at a closed mouth – lips sweet from the clove, cool from the walk from the bar, cheeks flushing that ever deeper shade of crimson. The blond stepped back, surprise stealing over his features for the second time that night, and he covered his mouth with an unsteady hand. There was more silence, and yet … no tension at all.
"You're also a goddamned freak."
"That's … a little closer to home, Rox. You're getting there."
Eyes widened again as he pushed himself off the counter and stretched, shoulders popping in the process. He grinned, reaching out to a space on the shelf directly above the blond's head and dropping a box into an open palm. "Just in case you decide you want one later … and I'm not around for you to bum off of." He took one down for himself and shoved it into his pocket with the other as Roxas read the name out loud. "Djarum Blacks," he mused softly. He looked up, mouth twisted into a lopsided smirk. "What's the method behind naming these things, do you think?"
"Don't know, don't care. All I know is they taste good, and take the edge off better than a shot of Everclear."
More small talk. They moved slowly toward the door, each knowing they had other places to be, neither really wanting to leave. The blond had more studying to do, and Axel … he had that stack of inventory papers sitting on the corner of the desk in his apartment, just waiting for him. He'd played long enough for one evening. There would be others, wouldn't there?
He watched him walk away as he locked the door behind him, jacket pulled tighter as the wind began to blow. Turning in the opposite direction, he started towards home for the second night in a row with a smile tugging at his mouth.
There will be.
Okay, I lied. I have one more thing to say. I miss my cloves. I miss them so much. D8
