Rule one: never show your face on webcam.
Roxas glanced over his shoulder, making sure that the lock on the door was still in place. This shouldn't be so weird for him. It was normal, right? His friends kept talking about all the stuff you could find online, though he'd never checked that out for himself until now. Hayner had sent him the link for some webcam site that seemed a bit dubious, but no more so than half the other stuff you could Google.
Scanning the page, there were links to hundreds, probably thousands of 'conversations' one could join. Over webcam. Lovely. He continued to scroll through the seemingly endless list until a name finally caught his eye—'dancingflames'. Whoever had it must have had that screen name for ages…it was rare enough to find a screen name with only one number in it, let alone a phrase that actually made some sort of sense and didn't contain copious x's at the beginning and end. Ah well.
His mouse stuck as he clicked on the scarlet link, and approximately ten thousand windows popped up asking him if he was sure he wanted to enter that conversation. He growled unintelligibly, nearly ready to throw his computer out the window. He slammed his forehead down on the keyboard, cursing the technological revolution with every fiber of his being. Just his luck, really. He attempted to do something normal, and this was how it turned out. Typical Roxas.
The chat window popped up suddenly, and Roxas jumped back. That was either a very, very skinny girl or… not a girl. The quality wasn't excellent, but he could see a wild mass of red hair, eyes the same green as… well, as something very green, and black diamond-shaped markings beneath the eyes.
"So." Pink lips parted, turning the monosyllabic word into it's own paragraph. Roxas blanched slightly—even the low sound quality couldn't hide the definitively masculine voice. What have I gotten myself into?
Suddenly another window popped up on the screen, a webcam with a face reminding him to follow the five rules of webcam safety. He clicked out of it instinctively—pop ups never said anything useful.
"I'm Axel." The face on screen said, coming up closer to the lens for the webcam.
"Uh…" Roxas muttered. "Hi."
"Not much for conversation, are you?" Axel said, a smirk crossing his face. Another window jumped out at him again, reminding him never to show his face. Clearly Axel didn't care very much for the site's rules.
"Nnnn." Roxas muttered decisively.
Axel sighed. "You're new to this." It wasn't phrased as a question, but as a challenge.
A smile crossed Roxas' face despite himself, and he nodded before realizing his webcam was aimed at his stomach. "Yeah, just a little bit."
Axel paused, then shook his head. "Can't believe this. Ah well." He pulled his shirt off over his head, and Roxas' mouth fell open just a little bit. For someone as skinny as Axel appeared to be, he was entirely too muscular to be fair to the rest of the world. His skin was fair, but not pale; his eyes and hair appeared even more vibrant when compared to the white of his skin. He was wearing some sort of necklace, but Roxas couldn't tell what it was due to the low quality stream.
"Your turn." Axel purred, staring straight into the camera lens.
Roxas bit his lip nervously, wondering what the hell he was doing. He was about to strip. On webcam. For someone who he'd never met before. Someone he'd never met before… who happened to be a guy.
And even as Roxas' subconscious cried out against it, he pulled the green polo over his head and leaned back in the chair, putting his arms behind his head and exhaling gently. The view Axel had ranged from the waistband of his jeans to the bottom of his chin, though he was still wearing the wifebeater he had had on beneath the polo. And pants, of course.
"What's the necklace?" Axel asked, leaning towards the screen again.
Roxas blinked, looking down at his chest. "Oh, this? I never take it off."
"I don't remember asking if you were going to take it off. What is it?"
"It's a keyblade." Roxas said grudgingly.
Axel frowned slightly. "A what?"
"A keyblade."
"No, I know, I heard you. I just don't know what that is." Axel said impatiently.
Roxas smiled, though he knew Axel couldn't see it. "It's nothing, really. Just something some friends and I made up when we were younger. It's not real."
"Then how'd you get the necklace?"
"I made it." Roxas admitted, hoping Axel wouldn't ask how.
"How?"
Roxas groaned. "If I take the shirt off, will you shut up about it?"
"Hmmm." Axel sighed, leaning back in his chair. "I suppose I could be persuaded to change the topic. But only if the pants go too."
"Somehow I don't think so." Roxas said, leaning forward again.
"Roxas? Are you on the phone?" Roxas' mom's voice echoed into his room, and he winced.
"No, mom." He yelled back. "Go away."
"Same time tomorrow, Roxas?" Axel said, winking lasciviously at the camera.
"I don't—" Roxas began, but the connection had already been ended.
"Roxas? Why is this door locked?" His mother asked, jiggling the handle.
Roxas got up from his chair and stalked over to the door, yanking it open. "Mom, I'm a teenager. I lock my door in an effort to avoid influences of the outside world. Now go analyze that with Dad, okay?"
Mrs. Hart's eyes softened a bit, and she smiled at Roxas. "I'm sorry. You must be nervous about starting school soon. Don't worry about it. Everyone's nervous before their first day of high school."
"I'm not nervous. I like space. I like not having my insane mother try to open my door at random points. You don't even knock. That's why I lock my door." Roxas said defensively.
"Okay. Well, dinner's ready, but you don't have to come down if you don't want to. Tomorrow you're volunteering at the center, right?"
"Yes, mom. You know I am. You signed me up and you're driving me there." Roxas said, aggravation apparent in his voice.
"Oh, right. Well, okay then. Oh, and Hayner called earlier. He wants to know if you'll meet him to play basketball tomorrow."
--
"So, Roxas, how'd you like the site I sent you?" Hayner said with a smirk, feinting left before sprinting to the end of the court and tossing the ball into the net.
Roxas stood up, rubbing the back of his head slightly. "Uh, yeah, it was… great."
"Haha, wow, Roxas, I never pegged you for a homo." Hayner said good-naturedly as he tossed Roxas the ball, though his eyes belied the smile in his voice.
"Huh?" Roxas said, freezing as he caught the ball.
"The site. It's for fags only. I figured you'd call me in an outrage or something, not call it great." The taller boy said, eyes glinting with something Roxas couldn't quite name.
Roxas' eyes widened, and he turned away from the taller boy. "I was just kidding… duh." He tossed the ball back to Hayner, trying desperately not to let his embarrassment show.
"Yeah, you really had me worried there for a minute."
The two continued their game in silence, Roxas still trying to get the ball away from the older boy. He'd never seen Hayner look like that before… almost scared. Why did Hayner even care? They were friends… it shouldn't matter whether one of them liked guys, girls, or flying monkeys—they'd been friends nearly their whole lives.
"Hayn—"
"Roxas? Sweetie, we're late! We have to be at the center in fifteen minutes!" Mrs. Hart's voice echoed in the empty court, cutting Roxas off.
The blonde winced. "Mom… can't you just call me or something? You don't have to actually physically come get me when you come get me. Just call my cell."
"Okay, honey. But come on, we have to go!"
Turning to Hayner, the blonde rolled his eyes and jerked his chin at his mom. "Same time tomorrow?"
"Sure, see you then."
Walking away from the court, Roxas shuddered. Hayner seemed to be a little… off. He wasn't normally so weird about this sort of random stuff… they pulled pranks on each other all the time, but this wasn't really something Hayner usually went in for. It just seemed odd, really. Why would he do something like that?
"Roxas, you need to change your clothes or shower or something! You can't just show up at the center in basketball clothes!"
Rolling his eyes, the blonde hefted the bag he was carrying with a smirk. "Way ahead of you, Mom. I'll change in the car."
--
Roxas walked into the center, mentally bracing himself for whatever might befall him today. Last week he'd been accosted by one of the freakazoids in Nymphomaniacs Anonymous, and the week before it had been some weirdo from the hydrophobia support group. God, how some of these people survived, he would never know.
"Roxas you're working with the pyromaniacs anonymous group just give them donuts and such and KEEP THE COFFEE AWAY FROM THEM if it's too hot they'll try to get a spark or something, just give them water and such and try not to have a repeat of the incident from last week," Roxas' mother said all in one breath, then paused for a gasped intake and continued. "And take care of yourself, sweetie, I love you!"
The blonde blinked slightly, then nodded. "No heat around the pyros, donuts are okay, love you too."
Before Roxas had even finished Mrs. Hart was a blonde blur, speeding off to tell some other hopeless teen about their assignment. Most of the other kids were there by choice, thinking that working a support center would look great on their college applications. Roxas was there by force—he already had more than enough service hours for his entire class's graduation requirements; most likely enough for his entire school.
The firefreaks were in 813, one of the outside rooms in the center. There definitely weren't eight hundred and thirteen rooms in the place, but for some odd reason each set of numbers only went up to thirteen. There were twelve sections, each with their own set of restrooms, drinking fountains, and snack machines. Really, it was a pretty high class operation. Or something.
"Rox, where're you today?" Raijin popped up behind him, arms crossed impatiently.
"Don't call me Rox. I'm helping out with the pyro group. You?"
"Ah, I got the elderly citizens with fear of tripping over cats gig, y'know?"
"At least most of them still have eyebrows."
Raijin nodded. "See ya, Rox."
"Don't call me Rox…" Roxas said, knowing already that there was no point. Raijin had taken to going by Rai since he started hanging out with Seifer, and had then decided that everyone else in the world should have one-syllable first names as well. It drove Roxas nearly insane—he didn't like nicknames. Roxas suited him just fine, thanks much.
The blonde sighed and ran a hand through his hair, suddenly wishing he'd followed his mother's advice and taken a shower. His spikes were pretty much dead by this point… but really, there wasn't anything he could do about them now.
Roxas began to make his way to the 800 wing, not noticing the emerald eyes that watched him as he walked. The redheaded owner of said eyes grinned at the blonde's retreating back, then gave the vending machine an angry kick. He muttered something about wanting his Mountain Dew, but no one was close enough to hear him. Or care, for that matter.
Turning his back on the vending machine, Axel shoved his hands in his pockets and followed after the blonde, whistling something catchy and slightly off-key. Strangely enough, no one reacted to a six foot two, black-clad redhead with gravity-defying hair wandering through the halls; not until he pulled out a lighter, that is. At that point, he was quite quickly relieved of his lighter and informed that the 800 wing was straight ahead and that his meeting would be the 7th on the right, in room 813.
--
A/N: Aaaaaaaaaaaaand… FIN!
I realize this is crap, and I apologize. I had nothing better to upload for AkuRoku day. Oh, and I also apologize to those of you who see an update in your inbox and go "OMG CMP UPDATED!?" and then are, well, sorely disappointed. I've been pretty busy… I worked 70 hours last week, plus driver's ed and an odd semblance of a life (I know, weird, right?!).
So yeah.
Happy AkuRoku Day!