Ĉђąρτεŕ Eḯġђŧ » Wђìρρεđ Ĉŕεąм
Whipped: (adj.) A word describing something that has been beaten into a froth. Does not imply that someone has been beaten into submission.
Cream: (noun) The fatty component of milk which can be found on the surface when allowed to stand, unless homogenized.
Whipped Cream: (noun) Zexion's worst enemy that he deems evil enough to be blown up by forty (approx. figure) rocket launchers.
"My Best Friend Has Problems. Please Just Ignore Him."
At the underdeveloped age of ten, Demyx Aeco had been pretty much known for his fear of performing in front of an audience. Yes, I could not be more serious about this fine and delicate matter. There were times when the timid, apprehensive little boy with the crew-cut (do not question the crew-cut) would faint on the spot or disappear in a cloud of dust when he'd been forced to perform onstage. I mean, hell, there was this one year during his elementary school's annual Christmas concert whereby he played the narrator of the story, which didn't even require him to be on the damn stage. But even behind the heavy, velvet, tangible shield of curtains, he had cold feet. Two minutes of reading from the script and he just stuttered to a stop, ceased recounting the tale of old Scrooge and ran off bawling his eyes out. Twenty odd minutes later, they found him locked in the boy's bathroom mindlessly kicking one of the stall's PVC walls.
It was mind-blowingly astounding.
To help her only child get over his stage fright, Demyx's dear mother had bought him an expensive musical instrument. She said: "Go forth, my dear child, and learn to play this wonderful contraption well. When you have learnt to master it, you shall show the world just how great you are. And you will be grand and famous. The world will applaud you and watch in awe as you make beautiful music."
Well. Actually, if you want to get technical, what she really said was this: "Demyx, I paid an arm and a leg for this damned Fender. You better get your act together, learn to play it in front of an audience soon, preferably by next week, and be world-famous before the day comes when I cease to exist, you hear me?"
And learn to play the guitar he did. Effortlessly.
The kid was a true-blue natural and he became unnaturally skilled at playing the legendary instrument.
Ten years on, Demyx had graduated from high school and enrolled himself in the University of Twilight. There, he started his own band and ditched his initial choice of majoring in marine biology for a major in music. Now, twenty-one and in his second year at UT, he (miraculously) no longer found himself having heart palpitation-inducing problems performing in front of a crowd. In fact, he now adored large audiences as much as any other publicity-starved novice band member would. And just a word of warning: his die-hard fans would totally maul you with crowbars, mic stands, blades with guns attached to them, combat knives, decks of playing cards, nunchucks and other assorted video game-related weapons if you ever so much as attempted to boo or jeer at him during a gig.
Okay, enough background information. The main point of that heart-wrenching story? Demyx, world-class punk rock band front guitarist, started off as a shy kid… and ended up being a complete and utter people-loving yobbo. Miracle of miracles.
Now, back to this story.
"G'mornin', Cloud!" said people-loving yobbo called out as soon as the zombified Strife had entered the bar.
"M'rning," Cloud mumbled, still in his catatonic, sleep-induced state at this early hour. He felt so dead and unholy and vampire-like that direct sunlight seemed to have some kind of a burning effect on his skin and retinas. He stifled a broken yawn, scratched at his semi-flattened porcupine hair (trust me when I say his usually-immaculate spiky mop looked pretty deceased today) and rubbed at his sandpaper-ish eyes.
Jesus. Two nights in a row with minimal sleep! He couldn't go on like this! Crappy crapola. Maybe he needed sleeping pills.
Or alcohol.
That worked relatively well too…
Cloud's eye twitched. Maybe he should take them both. He made a mental note to stop by the pharmacy and the liquor store later on. Screw brain damage, memory loss and/or possible death. Alcohol plus sleeping pills would equal inevitable tomblike coma. And damn, he needed to be knocked out real good tonight. For heaven's fucking sake, he wasn't a goddamn teenage schoolboy with intense, extreme, severe, out-of-control, raging hormones from hell! Just who the frack on this blue-green planet of ozone-depleting carbon monoxide had unprecedented wet dreams about – about – about… ABOUT THEIR BOSS?!
… Oh. Wait, don't answer that.
It was a bright and beautiful Saturday morning. Way too bright and way too beautiful for semi-nocturnal humanoid creatures who abhorred the fact that they had to clock in on weekends. An example of this rare species would be a man who went by the name of Strife (first name: Cloud, middle name: The Pessimistic Bastard). Said humanoid was grateful that at least it was Demyx de Punk who was scheduled to open up this morning. Cloud was only there to supervise the new kid, since Axel and Squ—Le—…stupidhead would only arrive later. 'Cept the Strife came in late of course, and the bar had already been open for about an hour now and Demyx had already sent like, seven customers on their way with steaming paper cups of caffeine-laden beverages.
The mohawk'd musician was always an early-riser. And today, being Hooray! No Classes! Let Us College Kids All Rejoice And Vandalize Stuff! Day, Demyx was evidently more effervescent than normal, which didn't exactly bode well for his other blond colleague (who was now shuffling like an old man with various disabilities towards the counter).
"You alright there, dude?" Demyx asked in a voice that sounded somewhat concerned. Or maybe he was just faking it. Whatever.
It was then that Cloud realised that the musician had a nervous look on his face and seemed to be keeping a fair distance away from his personal space. Now, if it wasn't already obvious, no one really gave a shit about Cloud's personal space to begin with, so he found it extremely odd for a few moments. And the events of last night came barrelling back to Cloud, hitting the blond painfully in the stomach, causing him to exhale almost despairingly.
Yes. Damn. Fuck.
He had punched Roxas.
… He had…
Punched (insert random number of exclamation marks here!)…
R-O-X-A-S.
He had punched the only person out of the whole lot of them that he thought he'd never punch. I mean, come on! Sora (annoying douche)? Demyx (even more annoying douche)!?AXEL (professional fucktard)!? He just had to hit Roxas of all people, just because the kid was talking about Rinoa. Rinoa! Like, what the fuck, dude? RINOA! That Leon-humping woman with the big bucks.
It appalled Cloud to no end. There was no sugar-coating it in rainbow colours and bright sparkles. This mere incident totally messed with his mind.
Oh, and Demyx was still waiting for an answer.
Cloud sighed loosely. It was one of those 'goddammit, I give the hell up' sighs.
"Look, Demyx… About last night… I didn't mean to hurt Roxas. I was – I was just…" Another miserable sigh. "… Well, I was having a really, really bad—"
"Say no more, Cloudy Skies," Demyx smiled consolably. "Chill. I know why you did it. I'm just askin' if you're feeling a little better now, that's all."
"You know why I did it?" Cloud was horror-struck and very much astounded. No way! His eyes narrowed suddenly. "Has Axel been talking to you?" he growled suspiciously, and then mentally berated himself for letting Axel know exactly why he had been in a crappy mood yesterday. "Dammit! I knew I shouldn't have told him a goddamn thing about my thing for Leon!"
"Whoa, whoa, back it up, man!" Demyx looked surprised. "You have a thing for Leon?"
If it were possible, Cloud looked even more mortified than before. Oh no. What had he done?!
"I thought you said you knew!" he more or less shouted at Demyx in an immensely shrilly and high-pitched voice (so shrilly and high-pitched that it could have shattered glass windows, maybe even Perspex or bullet-proof windows).
"PSYCHE!" Demyx counter-yelled, then started laughing like that skinny-ass rotten kid who stole your wallet last Sunday, emptied it and threw it into the garbage chute, then used all your stolen cash to purchase several crime/mystery novels and twelve Pokemon Trading Card decks. "HAHAHA! Just kidding, man! I totally knew you had a thing for Leon. I've known it for like, aaaages! Axel told me nothing! I figured it out myself awhile ago. And from my reckoning, you're just breaking out of denial right around… now."
Suspended silence.
Cloud found himself letting loose a deep sigh of relief. But three milliseconds later, he realised that this revelation wasn't actually meant to make him feel any fucking better.
"Dem…" he muttered slowly, ever-so-carefully. Possibly his first time calling the kid by his nickname, ever. "Are you gonna tell anyone about this?"
And Cloud felt like one of those embarrassed high school Grade Ten girls right now. Y'know, one of those giggly fifteen-year-old chicks who've 'accidentally' let a friend know just whom it was she had this huge crush on and consequently makes said friend swear to never ever ever eveeeeer tell anyone about this insider-trading knowledge? Yeah, uh-huh, Cloud felt very fifteen-year-old-ish right now. And very girly.
"Hey, no worries!" Demyx replied smoothly as though he were a giant, talking silkworm. "I'm not gonna bust you! You have my word. What kinda friend would I be if I did? … We are friends, aren't we? Bosom buddies? Brothers in arms? Comrades on the battlefield? Colleagues in a hellhole? I'll be your super-slick Secret Keeper, like in Harry Potter. Y'know, the Secret Keeper person dude? Who keeps secrets?"
Cloud frowned, indicating that he did not, in fact, know what the hell a Secret Keeper was. Neither did he know of this Hairy Plotter thing.
"And don't you worry about Axel either," Demyx went on, a serene smile fixed on his face as though completely oblivious to Cloud's current mid-life crisis pertaining to his confusion in gender preference. "I can tell you two are pretty close pals, even though it doesn't seem like it to you. He'd never do something as stupid as blackmail you or betray your trust. I mean, duh, he may not seem like someone you'd rely upon or have confidence in, but take my word for it; the dude's clearly totally loyal when it comes to friends." Demyx's expression faltered a little, and he couldn't help but add: "Although if he develops a deeper affection for Roxas, you'd better not try your I-hit-little-kids-because-I'm-an-angry-buffalo-queen stunt again."
Cloud blinked several times. An angry what now?
He decided not to question Demyx's questionable thinking process and shook his head instead. "… I hope you're right, because if that redheaded sonuva bitch so much as blabs a word to Leon, I will kill him eat his heart and internal organs for breakfast."
Demyx shot Cloud a reassuring grin. "Relax, buddy. I'm always right!" He gave the older blond a thumbs-up. And then, his smile faded slightly and he looked a little sadly at Cloud. "Eh, sorry about Leon and his girl, yo," he said, voice suddenly unexpectedly low. "Guess you'd have to wait a little and hope they break up along the way somehow. Even then, I dunno if you'll stand a chance. The boss dude seems pretty straight."
Something in Demyx's voice caused Cloud to stir from his fog of depression. He looked closely at the guitarist's face (ignoring the piercings that framed it) and recalled that Demyx had something like a crush on one of those guys from UT who walked in the other day. Cloud knew he'd been pretty mocking and condescending about it. He felt like taking his words back now. Y'know, the kid didn't seem like such a bad guy after all.
"You're not straight, are you?" Cloud asked. A little blunt, but hey, a little straight-talking never hurt anybody.
Demyx looked startled at the question, then his cheeks turned a faint shade of pink and he laughed a little bashfully. "Well, you know, I'm attracted to girls, sure. But… there's just this one guy…" he sighed wistfully. "There's just somethin' about him that pulls me in, y'know? Think it's his eyes, cuz you can't really see 'em, but when you do, they make you melt… or something. I dunno."
"Is he the one from UT?"
"Yeah. That's right. Whenever I catch a glimpse of him in a crowd or something, my heart speeds up so damn fast and painfully and I get butterflies in my gut and I always hope to God he's lookin' at me, but not really, because then I'd be all nervous and stuff if he does and I'd probably end up looking like some spastic idiot in front of him. It's so annoying!"
Demyx had to stop with his story and shut up just then because he heard the front door swing open.
Cloud glanced over Demyx's shoulder and towards the doorway, taking in the sight of the newcomers. There were two of them. And they were coming this way. Oh. Ohhh… Well, this was turning out to be an interesting day.
"Huh," Cloud muttered. "Speak of the devil."
Demyx's head whipped around so fast it cricked audibly. He immediately tensed on the spot when he realised Cloud was totally right. OHMYGOD. It's him! a corner of his mind squealed in soprano and nearly exploded. It told him to Run! Run the fuck away!
Yep. It was the slate-haired emo fashionista and that pretty-looking silver-haired kid (whom we've finally learnt in the last chapter that he went by the name of Riku) once again. Of course, Demyx wasn't concentrating on Riku very much. Riku might as well have been non-existent or dying in a corner in some besmirched alley somewhere for all he cared. Demyx was more concerned about the other guy walking in his direction.
The usually-chipper (now oddly flustered) barista tried (with much difficulty) to compose himself in a manner that did not quite scream Oh my freaking mother of quantum physics and guitar picks! It's the guy that I stalk at university and on the internet (sort of)!
Oh dear, oh dear. Why were these two even here of all the places in Twilight Metropolis? It was eight in the morning on a weekend for crying out loud! Did you wake up at such an ungodly hour just to meet up with a friend and visit a coffee bar for coffee?! How ridiculously impractical (not to mention bizarre).
Unless…!
Unless one of them had like, Ulterior Motives™.
Or something.
When the two customers had reached the counter, Riku (a.k.a. Goldilock's biggest nemesis for the Most Lustrous Hair Competition) glanced at Cloud briefly, then at Demyx.
Demyx bit his bottom lip hard and tried to calm himself down enough before asking, "Uh, hello. May I, um, take your order?"
"Ah, yeah, heeey," Riku said, distracted for a few moments. "Er…" He looked around a bit more, like he was searching for something extremely important and/or valuable and/or not exactly there in the first place. "I know this may be a stupid question, but… where's that new kid with the brown hair? Sora?"
His companion snorted.
Cloud arched an eyebrow and pursed his lips like a fish. "Friend of yours?" he asked.
Riku shrugged, his apathetic pokerface expressionless. "In time, maybe."
Demyx tapped a finger against his chin, trying to ignore the fact that his superduperlongtimeboycrush was standing like, two feet away. He could almost smell his shampoo. "Weeeell, the new kiddies don't get in till around noon on weekends. Sorry, you're kind of a bit too early. Sora's probably at home in bed right about now, sleeping… I suppose."
"Mmm, yes. See? I told you, Ri," Riku's friend muttered, causing Riku to roll his eyes skyward. "So, anyway," the slate-haired individual coughed delicately and looked up straight into the musician's eyes, completely ignoring Cloud as though he wasn't just standing right next to his co-worker. "Dem, we'd like to order some drinks."
The part-time barista's brain didn't exactly manage to process much of that sentence, apart from the fact that OMGHECALLEDMEDEM! QAWSEDRFTGAPPLEPIEZANDSTUFF!
A good few seconds passed in silence. Deep breaths, deep breaths.
"… I'm sorry, er… what?"
Riku sighed. "Um, drinks. Y'know, like uh, liquids? Preferably with caffeine or something? You put them in little cups."
Cloud more or less shoved his suddenly-rendered-retarded co-worker to one side and exuded a business-like aura. He may be feeling horribly sleepy and fucked in the head right now, but hell, he'd been working at The Fix for more than half a year and he knew how to take the reins from here. No way was he gonna let Demyx screw anything up and embarrass the both of them.
"Sure. Drinks. Cool, cool. Yeah, we serve those here." The proficient blond expertly flipped open the notepad that he usually used to scribble orders down on and grabbed at the pencil on the counter, twirling it in one hand like a pro. "And what would you two like?"
The two customers made their order. The usual. One ice blended mocha (without whipped cream) for the shorty, and one hazelnut macchiato (with whipped cream) for the tall guy. Take away. This time, they weren't staying long. Probably (most likely) because they found out that Sora wasn't here. Cloud wasn't sure what the deal was with that silver-haired guy and Sora. It didn't seem like they knew each other well. They probably didn't. But it seemed that Riku was interested in Sora. How quaint.
Maybe he was gay, Cloud deduced.
… Nah.
Everyone was straight.
The whole world was straight.
Leon was straight.
DAMMIT.
Money exchanged hands, Cloud cashed it into the register violently, then he gave Demyx the order and proceeded to disappear into the kitchen and out the back, saying he needed to make a break for the little men's room next door due to unforeseen circumstances.
And so, a very startled Demyx was left alone in the bar with the two customers.
Great. Just what the doctor ordered.
Not.
He tried to keep a low-profile, working silently on making the mocha and macchiato with the machine out front. A little hard, what with the object of his infatuation standing by the counter, waiting for his drink to be made… waiting for him to finish making his drink. But he managed. Once done, he presented them to the two.
And then! AND THEN! As he passed said object of infatuation his drink over the counter, the guy started a freaking conversation with him!
"Do you usually work here every day? Or is this just a part-time thing?"
Demyx's heart tried to do backflips. It seemed to be happily slamming itself against his ribcage. He giggled nervously. "Ah, ha, well, just a part-time thing. I come in on weekends and Mondays, Wednesdays and Fridays after classes end. Can't afford to work full-time with all the stuff going on at UT and all."
"I see. Makes sense…" Pause. "Oh, I'm terribly sorry. How rude of me. We've seen each other around campus a lot, but we've never actually talked or been formally introduced. Well, just about everybody at UT has heard of you, so it's not hard to know your name. But I don't think I'm as famous as you, so…" The guy blew at a strand of blue-purple hair on his face and extended a slender hand (the one not holding his mocha). "I'm Zexion. If you wanted to know."
Demyx nodded and took his hand, trying excruciatingly hard to play the calm-and-collected, semi-famous, people-loving musician. His trump card. "Yeah. I know who you are."
Zexion (for that was indeed his name) looked surprised, if not a little happy about the fact. "You do?"
"Yeah. You're in third year doing a dual in Med-Law, right?"
Zexion blinked (and Demyx realised that eyeliner never looked so damn good on a guy). "How'd you...? Who told you that?""
"Uhhhhh…" Oh shit. Demyx's brain stalled. What was he going to say? 'Oh, you know, I've been stalking you like a freak'? "Well..." Shitshitshit. He racked his brains for something that didn't sound too ludicrous. "You know, uh, Lexaeus? Yeah! Lexaeus! He's a friend of yours, right? Yeah, he's a fan of M Thirteen. We had a conversation once and he mentioned you somewhere."
"Oh." Zexion didn't look entirely convinced. He was sure Lexaeus had no interest in Mismatched Thirteen at all.
Demyx decided to change the topic quickly in case Zexion decided to enquire further. "Med-Law… You must be smart. So what do you wanna be when you graduate? A lawyer? Or doctor?"
Zexion shrugged. "Don't know yet."
"I see you as a lawyer," said Demyx in earnest, recalling how he always saw Zexion's pretty face buried in thick books wherever he went. "Really! You look the type! Smart and serious and intelligent and all."
Zexion smiled. "Yeah?"
Demyx beamed. Zexion's smile was gorgeous. "Yeah."
"Alright, alright," Riku cut in briskly. "Zex, c'mon, we gotta go. We'll come back another day and you two can swap pointless stories then."
A couple of hours after Riku and Zexion had vacated the premises, Axel and Leon came in at the same time. Cloud believed Axel got a lift from the boss, which wasn't unusual. Axel took public transport after all (the redhead liked to think he was doing the world a favour by not being another jackass contributing to the greenhouse effect). Anyways, the two walked into the bar with Axel grinning away and yapping about something related to dead snails and ginger beer bottles.
Cloud was suddenly apprehensive.
Axel and Leon were unusually buddy-buddy this morning. The blond wondered if Axel may have told Leon something about him.
"Hey, Dem! Cloud! 'Sup? You two're lookin' swell today!" Axel sang, his green eyes twinkling in such a frightening manner that Cloud wanted to shoot him at point blank range.
Demyx smiled broadly. He was over the moon for some unknown reason. Okay, fine. He was over the moon because his unexpected exchange with Zexion earlier that morning went so much better than he'd anticipated.
Cloud, on the other hand, did not smile broadly. Instead, he shot Axel a Killer Queen Glare (gunpowder, gelatine, dynamite with a laser beam, guaranteed to blow your mind).
And the redhead caught sight of Cloud's murderous expression and seemed to have read his mind.
"What?! I didn't tell him anything!" Axel defended with a squawk.
"Suuuure," Cloud hissed.
"Like, seriously! I couldn't be more serious! I mean, ask Leon himself if you really wanna know so bad!"
Demyx jabbed Cloud in the ribs. "See? What'd I tell ya? He's a loyal friend."
Leon took this moment to frown and interject. "Is there something you people aren't telling me?"
"No!" Demyx quipped hastily. "Nothing at all—"
"Cloud's pregnant!" Axel blurted.
This was meant to be an intelligent diversion.
Demyx blinked whilst Leon's eyebrows flew off his face.
"With joy and elation!" the redhead added quickly.
"Um, yeah!" Demyx looked baffled but played along. He tried to steer the conversation away from revelations of Cloud's predicament. "And the thing is, his hills were alive with the sound of music. But he never knew what song they were playing… Total bummer. But that doesn't mean he's in love with anyone! Nuh-uh! Especially not the girl and/or boy next door! That would be absurd!" Demyx prattled. "Totally bonkers I tell ya—"
"—And lots and lots of BOXES!" Axel concluded lamely with a cheesy smile.
Crickets chirped for a full five seconds. There was even the croak of a frog somewhere in there and the sound of a falling tree.
Cloud stared, dumbfounded. He didn't know whether to sigh in relief or kill Demyx and Axel.
But apparently, the dynamic duo weren't finished yet. Oh no, no, they definitely weren't. Far from it. They were determined to sidetrack the boss as much as humanly possible. And Cloud thought they were going a little too far.
"Demyx! What's your ambition in life?" Axel almost yelled. "Fame? Fortune? Lots of wild sex?"
Demyx forced a grin. "I just wanna be happy, you know? Sure, I could do with the fame and fortune and sex bit, but it's not a necessity. I just wanna get by in life, eat fast food, buy a nice house, have a little dog named Wookie Snugglebutt… and maybe get like, married one day."
"Jesus, you've got your life all planned out haven't you? Along with all the blueprints and to-do lists and shit."
Well, the two had obviously successfully managed to divert Leon's attention, because then, Leon muttered, "At least he's got more direction than you, Axel."
The redhead shrugged and spread his arms wide. "Well, I had a dog named Pooey the Win. He died seven years ago when a truck ran over him, but gimme a consolation prize here!"
At noon, Sora and Roxas walked in. Well, it was pretty hard to mistake them for anyone else for their presence was blatantly announced with Sora's loud "HELLOOOOO, WOOOORLD!"
The first thing everyone noticed was that Roxas had a prominent black-purple bruise on his left cheek as though someone had punched him on that exact spot, hard.
"Roxas, what happened to your face?" Leon asked, brow creased in concern.
Roxas glanced at Cloud stoically and Cloud grimaced. Oh no. He'd been worrying about Leon finding out about his new-found feelings so much that the fact that he'd attacked Roxas slipped his mind. And if Roxas told Leon what he did… ah, crap. Leon would totally fire him. Or worse, hate him forever and ever amen.
Roxas broke eye-contact with Cloud and looked back at Leon, shrugging. "Small incident at home," he lied, tone deathly serious. "No big deal."
Cloud was confused for a moment. But then he slowly exhaled the breath he'd been holding in. Jesus. He gave the blond kid an appreciative look. One that clearly read, thankyouthankyouthankyouforsavingmypatheticass.
He promised himself that he was going to buy the kid a beer one of these days.
Sora was clearly not happy when Roxas fibbed about Cloud's psychosomatic episode yesterday and pouted a little resentfully. The brunet wasn't ever going to forgive the creep for hurting his friend. If it weren't for Roxas' merciful nature, Sora would have liked to execute a fitting revenge that generally involved a pair of scissors, a plastic rolling pin and a gallon of black hair dye. Maybe even a wad of gum and some chilli peppers for good measure.
Leon wasn't convinced with Roxas' explanation but decided wisely not to say anything more about it.
Less than a minute later, Demyx announced from the kitchen that they were fast running out of milk.
"YO, BOSS! WE'RE TOTALLY RUNNING OUT OF MILK, MAN!"
See? Told you.
Leon frowned, then looked at Axel, who wasn't doing anything in particular (well, he was picking at the lint on his outfit and tying his shoelaces at the same time, but that constituted as doing nothing in particular in Leon's book).
"Ax? Make yourself useful and go get ten cartons of full cream milk from I.K.K.'s."
Axel straightened and stared at Leon. "Gee, Mister I-Have-A-Pretty-Girlfriend-Now. Do I look like I have half a dozen pairs of hands to help me carry ten friggin' cartons of milk to you?"
Leon rolled his eyes. "No, Axel. You don't. I wasn't going to let you go alone anyway. Last time you made a trip down there, you lost twenty bucks. Twenty of my bucks."
"I didn't know how much change I was supposed to get back! I handed him fifty in cash! The damn cashier was a cheat!"
Axel abhorred mathematics. The only thing remotely related to mathematics he really understood was: Sex equals maths. Add a guy and a girl, subtract the clothes, divide the legs and if lucky, multiply!
"Whatever. I don't want you making the same mistake again," Leon growled, annoyed now. "Take Roxas with you."
Moments later, Roxas found himself walking towards the convenience store down the street (The 'I Killed Kenny' Store) with Axel by his side.
"Hey, Rox? Is your face really okay?" the redhead asked. "I know from experience that Cloud's got a pretty nasty right hook."
It was true. Axel had gotten into fight with Cloud once in high school (Cloud had caught Axel trying to steal his lunch money). Cloud broke Axel's nose. It was a messy affair.
"It's fine," the boy replied. "Hurts like a bitch, but I'll be okay. Don't worry about it." He paused, then lowered his voice to a grudging mutter. "Thanks for yesterday. If it weren't for you, he'd probably have kept on going and I would've had it pretty bad."
Axel ruffled the blond's hair. "No worries, kiddo. Gotta save damsels in distress to boost my reputation and amplify my charm!"
Roxas frowned and pushed Axel away, irritated by the redhead's lack of respect for his immaculately-styled 'do. "Right. If you say so." Damn doofus.
Axel was silent for a few seconds. Just a few seconds. He could never shut up for long.
"Sooooo. Why'd you cover up for him anyways?"
Roxas rolled his eyes and made a disgruntled noise. "Dunno. Felt sorry for the guy? Didn't want the only sane person at the bar getting his ass fired? Saved his life so he'd owe me one later?"
"One of those?"
"All of them."
"Mmm… Well, can I ask you something?"
Roxas looked at his sorry excuse for a companion disbelievingly. "What have you been doing for the past three minutes?"
"Point taken. Why'd you really sign up to work at The Fix?"
The blond was silent for a few moments, probably debating whether or not Axel deserved an answer. He adjusted his shirt and deftly flicked a stray lock of golden hair out of his eyes. And then he gave a small sigh. "I wasn't kidding the first time. Sora really needs protection," he said at last, face unsmiling. "He's not… Well, you've seen how he acts and you can tell that he thinks he's like some kind of badass teenage alpha male from the mob. But behind all that bull, there's just one little thing that'll bring everything down from under him."
Axel motioned for Roxas to continue.
Roxas crossed his arms. "He's openly gay."
Axel cocked an eyebrow.
"Oh… I see."
To say the redhead was extremely surprised about this revelation would be an understatement.
"Well, okay, not openly openly," Roxas continued. "But sometimes, he can't help himself and he has this damned habit of divulging secrets to unpleasant people in the most flippant, thoughtless manner. Believe me, I've had to get him out of ridiculous situations in school. 'Specially with those assholes who hang around his locker area who seem to have something against homosexuality in general. But he's my best friend and all, so…" Roxas' sentence trailed away as he shook his head mock-tragically. "The dimwit's not exactly the brightest kid on the block, so I can't help feeling protective."
"Iiiinteresting. Well, I believe he'll fit in juuuuust fine at The Fix. So don't worry about the bouncy little tyke too much. He'll feel right at home."
"Why do I not want to know what you meant by that?"
Axel smiled deviously and said nothing.
"Okay, whatever. My turn. I've got a question too. Why the hell do you insist on getting into my pants, Axel?"
"Because…" Axel thought hard for a moment, then snapped two fingers together. "Because I'm openly gay?"
Roxas pinched the bridge of his nose. "Okay. It's obvious I have nothing against gays. But, dude, just because Sora's my best friend doesn't mean you get to push your luck."
"Aw, darling, it takes two hands to clap, but sometimes one hand can go to the other."
"… You disgust me."
"But you love me too, right?"
"No. I really don't."
When they arrived at Kenny's, the first thing Axel said made Roxas want to slap the man across the face for his impudence.
"Roxas, buy me a lollipop."
One. Two. Three. Four. Five.
"… You serious?"
"Yes. Totally serious."
"… My money goes to my future Ferrari, not artificial-flavoured candy. Sorry."
"Ferrari, eh? Damn, you rich kids always think big."
"Can't help thinking big," Roxas shrugged. "Ferraris are hot… and fast," he added as an afterthought.
"Hmm…" Axel pulled at his lip, then his face broke into a sly smirk. "Wanna acquaint yourself with something else that can be hot and fast? And big?"
Roxas snorted. "Don't tell me, because I really don't wanna know," he muttered. "You're such a fucking whore."
Axel pouted, feigning hurt, then crossed his arms. "Dude, Ferraris aren't economically friendly. I mean, hello? Captain Planet might personally hunt you down for driving one."
"… What?" Roxas intoned flatly. He had no idea what his fellow co-worker was going on about. Who the hell was Captain Planet?
The redhead stopped in his tracks, incredulous. "Captain Planet? He's a hero? Gonna take pollution down to zero?" he half-sang questioningly. "Aw, c'mon, you must have heard of him! Where were you in the early nineties?!"
"Well gee, I have no idea," Roxas bit out sarcastically, "running around in a sandpit in kindergarten maybe?"
Axel more or less goggled at the boy in front of him. Mental images of a cute, blond-haired little kiddy Roxas began materialising in his head.
Roxas, realising the mistake he made about mentioning his nursery school years, decided to stalk off in the direction of the dairy isle.
Axel caught up with the blond quickly.
"Y'know what, Roxy?" the redhead asked as Roxas started loading ten cartons of full cream milk into his shopping basket.
"… I'm afraid to ask," the boy droned.
Axel grinned. "I believe your chick-loving days are going to come to an end quite soon."
Roxas didn't bat an eyelid. "Yeah, right. So says the fucking psychic pedofreak standing next to me."
"Oooh. Is that a challenge I detect? I love challenges."
The challenger in question rolled his eyes, and to humour the smug bastard, the blond put the heavy basket down on the ground, stepped closer towards the redhead and gave the man an exceedingly mocking sneer, forcefully jabbing him in the chest with one finger. "Okay, baby. Try me. Try real hard. We'll see how far you get in your fucked up attempts to work your homoerotic magic on someone like me. And if somehow you get somewhere, I'll exonerate your pathetic ass."
Axel blinked, mouth going a little slack.
"… God, Roxas…" he mumbled feebly, trying not to drool. "You're so hot when you do that."
Roxas frowned at this unprecedented reaction, flipped Axel the bird and stormed off in the direction of the cashier, leaving Axel to drag the basket along by himself.
The redhead recovered quickly enough and grinned to himself rather triumphantly. "I so got you, Rox. Hook, line and sinker. Time to reel you in. Sloooowly."
Author's note: Finally. Some Zemyx.
And despite still being in its early stages, I think this story is finally progressing quite nicely.