I took a leaf from Shakespeare's As You Like It. If you're familiar with the play, it'll be obvious when I'm borrowing from it. If you're unfamiliar with AYLI, go familiarize yourself with it! AYLI's one of my favorite Shakespearean comedies. Anyhow: Enjoy!

Axel had been pining over someone everyday for the past four years. Since the end of middle school, he felt that he absolutely needed to be attached to a love interest at all times, and he found a way to work it into almost every conversation.

Like I asked.

Stupid thing was, he didn't have girlfriends but crushes. These constant whims and fancies never amounted to anything. Axel just talked and gossiped and, at times, giggled about beautiful, sweet, funny, you-name-it girls who he maybe got around to flirting with.

Rosalie, or something, was the flavor-of-the-month, and Roxas was so over it.

"Axel, if you like her so much, go talk to her," the blonde said abruptly, in the middle of one of his best friend's affectionate raves.

Axel blinked, closed his mouth, and quite nearly blushed. "What?"

"I'm sure Rosaline would love to hear that you think she's so great," Roxas suggested. "I, however, am sick of listening to it."

Roxas stood to climb down from the clock tower and had reached the door before Axel decided to follow. "Roxas, wait!"

Roxas sighed and leaned against the brick wall to wait for the redhead to catch up. "You just talk and talk, and it's endless, and, God, it's boring."

"Hey! Sometimes we talk about other things. And anyway, I'd listen if you wanted to tell me about your romantic escapades."

"Yes, I know we sometimes talk about other things; that's why we're still friends. It's just when you get in these moods, I—wait, romantic escapades?"

Roxas paused in his tirade.

"Ax, I hate to break it to you, but liking a girl does not equate to a date. Or an escapade, or anything else above the level of speaking."

"Well, it's not like you're the master of dating," Axel retorted, folding his arms. Roxas couldn't tell if he was genuinely offended, but he didn't want to take any chances. His friend's hurt-puppy rants were about as annoying as those about his…lovers. He snorted at the term.

Axel apparently heard the exhale, and his eyes flashed so that Roxas could see clearly that his friend was upset. "I mean, are you?"

"No, come on. You know I'm not." Roxas lifted the corners of his mouth gently. But as his friend uncrossed his arms, Roxas couldn't help adding, "I could still teach you a few things about love, though."

Oh, that was lame.

Axel's brows furrowed for a moment before a smirk spread over his features. "Alright, then. Teach me."

Roxas blinked. He had prepared for many possible reactions to his pathetic assertion that he was somehow more qualified in the language of love. He might've guessed he was in for some mocking. Axel-overreactions and rants. Maybe the silent treatment for up to six hours. But acceptance was not a reaction he'd expected. "Come again?"

"Teach me the tricks of the trade, Casablanca."

"I believe the term you're looking for is 'Casanova,' which we both know applies to neither one of us," Roxas responded, but Axel still looked set on learning all that Roxas could teach.

I probably deserve this, Roxas thought. Might as well have some fun with it.

"Alright, fine," Roxas snapped, mind working quickly. How to do this…Oh.

"I would teach you, if you would call me but Rosalind and come every day to this clock tower and woo me."

It was Axel's turn to blink, confused by the speech pattern and unsure how to respond to this proposition. "Um."

"Woo me, woo me!" Roxas continued the charade, happy with Axel's dumbfounded expression. "If I was Rosalind, what would you say to me?"

Axel took a moment to accept the situation; then a mischievous gleam came into his eyes. "I would kiss before I spoke."

Roxas looked at him in a moment of panic before answering, "No, you better speak first. Or she won't have you."

"No?" Axel murmured, stepping forward as if to kiss his…friend…who was still leaning against the doorframe. He leaned on his hands on either side of the blonde's face.

"Um…" Roxas squeaked, and he could feel Axel's hot breath on his nose before he ducked under the redhead's arm and stammered, "N-No!"

His back to Axel, Roxas ghosted his fingers across his lips. Would Axel really have—? More importantly, would Roxas have wanted him to—?

"Roxas?"

"It's 'Rosalind,' remember?" Forcing a laugh, Roxas turned to face his friend with a big grin on his face, hoping it didn't look too fake. "I'll see you tomorrow, yeah? It's getting late."

"What?" Axel's protests traveled down the staircase to where Roxas was already mounting his bicycle.

"Same time, same place."

Roxas sat the next evening looking out angrily at the perpetual sunset of Twilight Town from his usual perch on the clock tower. He tossed the stick from his finished sea salt ice cream down onto the street below, imagining it landing on Axel's head, its sticky remains getting caught in his dark red hair. It would serve him right.

Was it too weird? Roxas wondered. He didn't even know what had caused him to suggest that kind of act yesterday. It was funny, right? 'Oh, I'm Rosalind, ha-ha.'

But even if it was a weird scenario, it shouldn't have scared Axel away. He was the one who tried to—what? He tried to…k-kiss me…didn't he?

No, he tried to kiss Rosalind…but still. Even if he was supposed to be acting, Roxas was the one whose chest felt the warmth of Axel's body against his own, not Rosalind. Roxas was the one who smelled the syrupy scent of Axel's sea-salt ice cream breath. Roxas was the one who tasted sweet lips, soft as roses as they moved against his own—

Wait, no that last one didn't happen. But, blushing, he could imagine, oh, could he imagine…

"Ohh—Hey!" Roxas moaned, disguising it as a cry of alarm at the last second when strong arms suddenly lifted him to his feet and a mouth placed itself at his ear, brushing the lobe so gently that it was probably an accident. Still, lip-to-skin contact, Roxas thought before he could stop himself.

"Axel, what the hell?" Roxas demanded, trying somewhat successfully to keep from sounding breathless as he forced his unwilling body to detach itself from Axel's embrace. He peered cautiously back at Axel, hoping he didn't notice that his face was probably a brighter red than the sunset.

Axel looked hurt for a fleeting moment, then sheepish. He laughed nervously as he pulled out a flower. "A rose for Rosalind?" he added in explanation.

Rosalind, what—Oh yeah. "She—I mean Rosalind—I mean…" Roxas struggled to get into character as his mind reeled, thinking stupid things like I've never been offered flowers before!

And you never will, so quit mooning over your straight best friend! He yelled at his subconscious.

"I cannot accept!" he said eventually, heart melting at Axel's look of genuine disappointment. He dropped his gaze to the floor, where he caught sight of a drop of blue ice cream and remembered his frustration from a few moments before. "I mean, how could I when you arrive so late?"

Axel's eyes widened. "I made it within an hour of my promise!"

"Within an hour…" And now the anger was back in full force. He scoffed. "Break an hour's promise in love!"

Axel got down on his knees. "Pardon me, dear Rosalind!"

"Do you know how long I've been waiting up here?" Roxas continued the charade, wondering how much other than the name was actually fake. Rosalind was a flimsy cover for Roxas' true feelings. Axel's actions, however, could be completely false, and Roxas decided he didn't like that.

Wait, does that mean I wanted Axel to kiss me?

When Axel's lips touched his hand, Roxas found the answer to that question.

"Please, forgive me, my love."

"O-Okay," Roxas said softly. He coughed. "Now that you've earned my forgiveness, what would you tell your Rosalind?"

"I would tell her I love her."

And suddenly Roxas was not okay with the situation. He was not okay with Axel using him for practice so that he would be perfect when it came to the ladies, never mind that it had been Roxas's own idea. He was not okay with Axel looking into his eyes and talking about love while thinking about someone else.

In short, Roxas was jealous.

He pulled his hand away. "Well in her place, I say she will not have you."

"Then, in my place, I die."

Roxas frowned and tried unsuccessfully to urge his light-headedness away. He chided, in a choked voice, "Saying 'I love you' isn't enough. Put some effort into it."

Axel pulled Roxas down so that he was kneeling between his legs. Roxas shifted uncomfortably, but Axel held him in place, taking his hand again and looking- no, gazing- into conflicted blue eyes.

"I do love you, more than anyone else. When I see you frown, I want to do anything to see your smile again. I wish you would smile more, because it's the most beautiful thing in the world. Your laugh is to die for. I mean that honestly—I would die if it would make you laugh. Your eyes are a blue as bright as the sea, and I could stare at them forever. You're always there for me, so I want to be there for you, too."

Roxas could only whisper, "Blue as the sea, huh?"

Axel blushed and broke the eye contact for the first time since he began the speech. "Y-Yeah."

He looked confused.

Oh, God, maybe I shouldn't have said that. I made this uncomfortable. Did he guess that I want him? Oh, God, I want him? …OH GOD, I want him!

Then stretched on a silence that neither boy would break. Roxas refused to move or speak, because he feared it would make Axel remember that he was holding his best friend in his arms, not his Rosalind, and he wasn't ready to lose the warmth of Axel's body yet.

"Roxas?" Axel said quietly.

"Y-You mean Rosalind?"

"No, I mean Roxas."

Roxas inhaled sharply and started to stand up, but Axel didn't release his hold on him. The illusion was shattered and the play was over, yet Roxas remained seated against his friend's thigh. This became distinctly more intimidating he was when no longer playing the love interest.

He was back to being the third wheel on the unrequited side of the love triangle. The love triangle that doesn't exist because Roxas is not in love with his best friend. Right.

"Roxas, her name was Rosemary."

Roxas blinked, uncomprehending. "What?"

"The girl you were sick of hearing about? Her name was Rosemary, and she had brown eyes."

Roxas' eyebrows furrowed, and he looked at the floor as he dared to hope—for what? He wasn't what it was sure, but he wanted it bad. He felt fingers under his chin and became particularly aware of how close he was to his friend's green eyes.

"Roxas," Axel whispered, "thanks for teaching me about love."

Then he closed that tiny distance and Roxas smiled into his first kiss.

Um that was fun to write. I imagine it was a bit less fun to read, ha! If you're looking for some real entertainment, pick up Shakespeare's As You Like It. Or, better yet, go see it performed. That's a real treat :)