Generally speaking, no one likes Mondays. They signify the end of the weekend and the beginning of the work-week, when everyone has to go back to school or work. It's the first day after two days of rest that you have to get up early and actually do something; the transition day. It is, in a word, loathsome.

However, the good thing about Mondays is, should you order something online with only business day shipping on, say, a Thursday, then it should arrive on Monday. Or, if you're Roxas, it's the day that your teacher has to confront you no matter what because he can't avoid giving you an answer when he's stuck with you three hours out of the day.

So imagine Roxas's surprise when, at seven thirty Monday morning, Axel came trudging down the stairs wearing a pair of plaid boxers, an overly large white t-shirt, and a bath robe.

"Um…Professor?" Roxas muttered, one of his eyebrows going up involuntarily. "We have to go to--"

He was cut off. "I called us in sick." The redhead muttered, pouring a cup of coffee from a pot that had miraculously started brewing. "We have the day off. Go back to bed."

The blonde's jaw dropped open. "You…we…uh…I'm sorry?" Axel had…called them in sick? As in, faked an illness in order to avoid giving Roxas an answer?

"You heard me." Axel answered, making his way out of the kitchen, through the dining room, and back upstairs. "We have the day off. You are free to do whatever you like, whenever you like. Three day weekend, I suppose. Have fun."

--

Roxas had never really liked Church, but that didn't change the fact that he had been brought up Catholic. Subsequently, he didn't really like lying. He didn't like withholding the truth from anyone, and he didn't like half-truths. Now, it was hardly fair to say that Axel was lying to, withholding the truth from, or "half-truthing" him. But the idea was the same.

Roxas was laying down on the couch with a pillow over his eyes, wrapped up in a blanket that he didn't need. His arms were folded over his covered face as though he was trying to smother himself, and his legs were knotted in his cover. The sight was, in a word, pathetic.

But how, he asked himself, should he act? He had been building himself up, waiting to get an answer today. This morning. This afternoon. At school. He knew Axel wouldn't be able to avoid him, yet he was doing that exact thing. He had found the one loophole that would prevent the final part of Roxas's plan from falling perfectly into place. How was that fair? Only one answer came to Roxas's mind: It wasn't.

He had to have been laying there for about two hours before he heard someone on the stairs. Well, he heard Axel on the stairs (because why on Earth would there be someone else on the stairs?). He immediately threw the blanket off of him and sat up, the pillow falling to the ground, to be greeted by…nothing.

The entryway was completely empty, and Roxas couldn't hear anyone in the dining room or kitchen. There wasn't anyone else in the room with him, and if he had been going in the opposite direction, Axel knew all too well that he would have been greeted by closets and false doors. He had no reason to go to the closet, so…

So I imagined it. Roxas finished mentally. Was he really that desperate? That he was pretending to himself that he was hearing Axel, that his teacher was coming to give him an answer that he craved? What did one call that?

Roxas, please. Whose voice was that? Naminé's? Why on Earth…?

Yes?

The answer is obvious.

The answer to what?

What you're feeling, stupid.

Oh? And what would that be?

You love him.

Whoa…what? No. That's stupid. A crush, maybe. But no. There is no way--

Stop it. You're being stupid. Like I said, its obvious. Why else would you be reacting the way you are to him? He has that kind of power over your emotions that no one else has. Because you love him~

Shut up! Shut up shut up shut up.

Its true.

That's enough, Naminé.

Hey, I'm just saying.

Yeah, yeah.

There was no way that was true. Roxas wouldn't let himself believe it. He, love Axel? He was 14! He was too young to know what love was. Right? That's what New York State Law said, anyway. He was too young to love, too young to be loved…

Or was that the whole point of this? Was it his lack of love, lack of attention, that had attracted him to Axel? Had he fallen for the one person who had acted as though he cared for the blonde? Roxas laid back on the couch, thinking, realizing that as incredibly cheesy as the idea was, it made perfect sense.

He needed to distract himself from this. He needed to do anything that didn't involve thinking about his feelings for Axel. Thinking about the answer that Axel might give him, whenever the redhead decided that Roxas would be able to handle it or whatever he was waiting for. He needed to think about something that was completely irrelevant; something that would take his mind off the problem at hand until he felt that he could tackle it head on. And he had the entire day to do just that.

--

Ah, sleep. Who, really, doesn't love sleep? Save for the occasional insomniac or heroin de-toxee, sleep is the most amazing part of the day. Really, when you think about it, its quite an amazing process. Your body slows down to the point that, if you were awake, you'd be in danger of dying. Yet when you sleep, you're…not. Fascinating.

Wasting away an entire day knowing you're supposed to be in school turned out to be quite fun for Roxas. With the entire mansion at his disposal yet again, it was very easy for him to take his mind off of his redheaded teacher and indulge in the simple pleasures of his wealth. It took about twenty minutes for him to convince himself that, at eleven thirty that evening, he should put down the pool stick and go to bed.

Now he lay in bed, hands folded over his chest, staring blindly at the ceiling. With nothing there to distract him, it was just him an his thoughts and worries about Axel. Tomorrow was the last day of the bet, and what would happen then? Would Axel make him leave, constantly worrying about his answer? Or would he get an answer before the time of the bet had elapsed?

These many thoughts among others were what was keeping Roxas from falling asleep. They took up all of his conscious, keeping him up with questions that had no answers. Keeping him focused. That was why, about a half an hour later, he was completely scared out of his skin when his door cracked open and a lithe figure quickly slipped in his room.

He couldn't believe his eyes when the tall silhouette slowly approached his bed and sat on the edge, nonchalantly placing his hand rather high on Roxas's thigh.

"…Axel?" Roxas whispered uncertainly, dropping formalities in wake of his surprise. He was met with a light chuckle, then the feeling of Axel's breath very close against his face.

"Hello, Roxy. You've missed me?" His breath was ghosting across Roxas's face, and the blonde was quite sure the redhead knew how teasing this was. It was all he could do to gulp and nod.

"Heh. I suppose that's too be expected. And I assume you're eagerly awaiting hearing my decision, no?" Slowly, Axel drew his hand up Roxas thigh and let it rest against his night shirt, fingering the seam.

Again, gulp and nod.

"Well, in that case…" Roxas could feel the smile in Axel's breath as he quickly drew away and stood up, hovering over him. Then, seemingly without thinking, the redhead picked Roxas up and carried him wedding-style into the hallway and towards the stairs.

"Professor!" Roxas yelped, his arms instinctively going around Axel's neck for support. "What are you--"

"Hush, Roxas." Axel cut him off. "Just…relax. I'm going to give you an answer."

They reached the staircase, but instead of going down, Axel took them up. Roxas knew that for the house's enormity, there were only four floors; the first floor, with the kitchen, dining room, living room, bathroom, and closets. The second floor, with one guest bedroom, bathroom, and game room. The third floor, with three respective guest bed and bathrooms, and the fourth floor, which had Axel's room and bathroom. Roxas had been informed on his first night that he was not to set foot on this floor unless instructed to. He supposed this was the next best thing.

They continued to ascend the stairs, past the third floor and to the off-limits grounds. When they arrived, Roxas was almost surprised to see that this was hardly any different from any other floor in the house: the bedroom was through a door off to the left, the bathroom was about ten feet down from that, and to the right was a towel closet.

Axel carried him, obviously, to the door that was to his bedroom. It was open, and there was a dim light that emanated from the fireplace. The fire inside was cackling (hardly roaring), but as they approached Roxas could feel the heat it supplied and enjoyed the warm light it threw over the bed. The bed that looked it was king-sized with huge, fluffy pillows and sheets to match.

Axel set Roxas down on the bed softly, placing one knee on his left side and climbing up to sit on Roxas's hips, placing the other knee on his right.

"Now Roxas." He muttered, running his hands up and down the blonde's chest, lifting up his shirt a little more each time. "If you haven't figured out what I'm going to do by now…"

He let the sentence fall into the air between them, hoping he wouldn't have to finish it. Roxas, obviously knowing what Axel had been planning, only smiled. There was a brief silence between them before the blonde spoke.

"Professor?"

"Yes, Roxas?"

"…Are you nervous?"

"Ha. A little, I suppose. Why, are you?"

Gulp. "Um…"

"Roxas." He leaned down, brushing his lips against Roxas's. Again, Roxas was reminded of his dream, simultaneously realizing that yes, God, Axel's lips were so soft.

"I'm going to take good care of you." He whispered, the blonde feeling each of his words.

"I know." Roxas whispered back.

"Well, in that case." Axel turned his head slightly and glanced at his bedside clock, which just turned from 11:59 to 12:00 a.m. "Let us begin."