Title: Moped Romance [9/12]
Pairing: Axel/Roxas

Warnings: Boys speaking Italian, language, Roxas being a whore, highly embarrassing moments, high-speed races through Roman traffic, Larxene, minor violence. Axel's subconscious, some … different pairings?
Rating: R.
Beta: the BetaMistress alovelysilence
A/N: Inspired by experiences had by a good friend of mine while we were studying abroad in Rome, Italy, in the spring of 2009.
Disclaimer: I don't own Kingdom Hearts, but I do get a kick out of writing for the fandom. I also do not own any of the songs mentioned; they belong to their respective artists and labels. In this chapter, P!nk.

Summary: Lost on the back alleys of Rome one night, Axel finds a savior in a young blond on a moped. A love story with subtitles.

In this chapter: After a trip to Florence a heartbroken Axel seeks Roxas out to mend their relationship, only to find that Roxas has different ways of dealing with the situation.

Author's Note: I hope you all had wonderful holidays! Now here's a present 3 I mentioned to a reviewer that Roxas is the one you should really watch out for. Well, now you'll see why. The claws are coming out, folks. Also, the song playing in Qube when Axel walks in is "Fire Burning" by Sean Kingston. Trust me. Also: I'M SORRY THIS TOOK SO LONG ;A; But! After a semester of grad school and one close call with a havoc-wreaking computer virus, here it is.

Cultural notes:

~ the Duomo: .org/wiki/Duomo_of_Florence see this link

~ The earthquake in l'Aquila was an actual event; I woke up to tremors in the middle of the night, and sleepily thought my muse had broken into my apartment and was sitting on my bed, shaking it. It wasn't until we went to class the next morning that we heard what had really happened. Aftershocks continued several weeks later. .?iref=allsearch

~ American University of Rome: founded in 1969, a very small school with classes taught in English specializing in International Studies/Relations.

Track 9 – So What

I guess I just lost my husband

I don't know where he went

So I'm gonna drink my money

I'm not gonna pay his rent

I've got a brand new attitude

And I'm gonna wear it tonight

I'm gonna get in trouble

I wanna start a fight

So what? I'm still a rock star

I got my rock movies

And I don't need you

And guess what, I'm having' more fun

And now that we're done

I'm gonna show you tonight

I'm alright, I'm just fine

And you're a tool, so

There was an emptiness, a hollow, cavernous maw eating away at Axel from the inside that he just could not shake for the life of him. He couldn't even begin to comprehend its depths, so vast it was like a void pressing in all around him. Axel felt like he was waking from the most colorful and lifelike dream and being shoved back into monotonous reality not even a change of scenery (trading in the familiar haunts and bustling streets of Rome for the tourist-saturated alleys of Florence) could fix.

He'd ended up walking to Larxene's apartment after Roxas left him on the hill overlooking the city, Roxas' enraged expression and stinging words seared behind his eyes and into his memory, not to mention his jaw. By the time he got there people were starting to move around a bit more, and the buses had started up too. Axel had almost considered buzzing Larxene's apartment (Xion would answer, she was closest to the front door) to be let in, but decided against it. There were a few bus stops near their apartment considering they lived three blocks from one of the tourist hubs in the city, so he made his way there. After being awake the whole night and walking for half of it his feet had begun to drag right beneath him, and the arrival of the first bus headed in the direction of his school apartment had been more than welcome.

Once he'd arrived back at that apartment, he noticed two things: that everyone was gone, and that he was forgetting something very important.

The study abroad group – Axel included – was supposed to be heading to Florence that day. So Axel threw whatever he could in the duffel bag not currently residing in Roxas' apartment and ran to take a last-minute shower. He just barely made it to the meeting point – a stop all the way at the end of the northern end of the red line – before the bus left without him. Demyx had given him a questioning look but allowed Axel to sleep for the remainder of the journey.

"Snap out of it man," Demyx said tiredly. "This is getting really old."

After checking in at the hotel, Axel had discovered that Demyx and Lex had been assigned as his roommates; the redhead had spent the rest of the night staring at the ceiling, answering Demyx's questions about what had happened dully. Everyone else had hit the streets of Florence to explore and go out to eat; Axel had no interest or energy.

"Fuck you, man," Axel muttered wearily. Going on only the tiniest amount of sleep, Axel was pissed and ready to snap. The bruise – courtesy of Roxas and his killer right hook, thank you very much – on his jaw certainly wasn't helping; it hurt like a bitch, but not nearly as much as the cracks in his heart did.

"Axel, do you know where we are?" Demyx suddenly demanded sharply, sitting up on his bed and glaring at his best friend.

"If I remember correctly, Florence," Axel responded just as testily. "If you have a point, I suggest you make it."

"Oh really, Florence, huh? Tell me Axel, when do you think you're ever going to be able to experience a place like this again?"

"Come again?"

"We're in fucking Florence, man! Go out, get up close and personal with David's dick, go shopping, climb the dome, see this place. It's amazing. When do you think you're ever going to experience it like this again?"

Axel shifted uncomfortably. "I don't know."

"Right. And if you're going to waste this trip away moping and generally making an ass of yourself on Roxas' account, I don't think you've really learned that much from him. It's about the experience, and if you don't take advantage of this you're going to be sorry in the end. Get out of here, go see the Medici palace. Eat one of those," Demyx waved his hand vaguely as he searched for the right phrase, "Florentine intestine sandwiches I saw earlier. Then report back."

"And why exactly am I being chosen as taste-tester?"

"You ate horse pizza."

"That was an anomaly."

"Do it! But … take a shower, first. You smell like ocean, petrol and BO. Not exactly the winning combination. "

"Thanks. I appreciate that."

Demyx gave him a thumbs-up. "Any time."

After a quick shower Axel did eventually venture out into the tourist-congested streets of Florence, exploring and getting his bearings, picking out certain things he wanted to do over the next two days before they left for Rome. That first afternoon he did not try the 'Florentine intestine sandwich' as requested, but managed to find a small bar not overrun by tourists to sit with some espresso and think.

Dinner was at a pizzeria around the corner from their hotel; Demyx and a few of the others were planning on heading out to find some place to drink and dance a little later in the night, but Axel declined. After two Peronis at the pizzeria and given his current state of mind, he just wanted to relax for a bit.

Ultimately Axel found the countless merchant stalls to be somewhat distracting to his heartache. He finally bought gifts for his family and friends to take home; scarves, leather wallets and belts, knock-off Murano glass, even a pair of handmade leather sandals for his mother were purchased – Axel was sure that by now his bank account would be looking pretty scarce.

His mood had even improved enough that Demyx decided he could put up with Axel long enough to take him up to the top of the Duomo, a relatively arduous journey up several winding, circular stone staircases and countless actual steps. The trip turned more harrowing as vertigo started to set in; making their way along a walkway suspended several stories within the church itself, close to the interior of the dome and extremely high up set several people on edge. As they got higher and higher the spaces they walked got more cramped, and people heading back down caused more than a few problems. Axel and Demyx got to the point where they were hunching over due to the low ceiling and having to lean against what amounted to the outer part of the interior dome – they were more or less walking between two domes, meant to support the structure and keep it from collapsing.

"I curse the name of Brunelleschi," Zexion grumbled. "Fucking steps." He was probably still dizzy from the circular staircases.

"Just imagine," Axel said cavalierly, "how many hundreds of thousands of people do this every day. All of them leaning on the inner dome, hundreds of feet over the floor. How long do you think it'll be before the dome starts to crack?" he ventured curiously.

Zexion stopped, turning and glaring over his shoulder. "You are a cruel, cruel man Axel. I curse you too."

Axel shrugged. "Actually, I'm pretty sure this is all Demyx's fault – I think he's trying to kill us with vertigo."

"No, only torture you like you've been doing to us for the last two days."

"Gee Demyx, I didn't know I was such a burden," Axel rolled his eyes.

"Well man, your attitude sucked," Demyx huffed, rounding the corner. "I get that Roxas dumped you, but weren't we all saying all along that that would happen? Or at least something along those lines?"

"It wasn't just that, Dem," Axel said. "I thought maybe he felt the same way, that it was mutual. I'd been watching him for a while, it seemed like that was what we were heading towards. Maybe we could've worked something out, kept in touch, visit each other. It wouldn't be the best, but it would be something."

"Do you think you might have read into it too much?" Zexion asked bluntly.

Axel shook his head shortly. "I still think there's something. He felt too close to not feel the same."

Zexion shrugged. "Maybe you're right. But if you're right, and I'm not saying you necessarily are, then I can't blame him for doing what he did."

Axel scowled, cursing the existence of fucking psych majors and quickly changed the subject. "This better be fucking worth it," he groused.

Two minutes later: "Holy fucking shit," Zexion breathed, halfway between reverence and horror.

They were minutes away from finally making it to the top of the dome; after at least forty five minutes of mind-numbing circular stairs, claustrophobia-inducing spaces, dark pathways, and more recently the people trying to cram themselves through going the opposite direction, and the only obstacle in their path now was a set of unbelievably steep steps built into the dome.

For someone Axel's height with his long legs, foot-tall steps were a little on the obnoxious side, but doable. For someone petite like Zexion – this would be hilarious.

"We've made it this far!" Demyx chuckled encouragingly. "We bested the Florentine Stairmaster!"

"Demyx is right, I want the fruits of my labor!" Axel joined in.

Zexion grumbled something under his breath and started up the steps, leaning down so he wouldn't hit his head. Demyx and Axel followed a few minutes later and fought their way up the ladder to the lantern near the top of the dome.

The fresh air and light hit him first; having been travelling though dark, claustrophobic spaces for the better part of an hour now they were more than welcome. Then, as he stepped up onto the platform Axel had only seconds to process just how high they were above the city of Florence before he was pushed by someone behind him. "Hold your freakin' horses," he muttered, moving out of the way and closer to the rail.

The view was almost too encompassing; it sent little jolts of fear up his spine, needling thoughts of don't get too close you'll fall and the feeling of his stomach moving into his chest cavity, like when you're at the high point of a roller coaster poised on the precipice of a steep drop and your body is just waiting for it to happen. Two hundred and ninety-five feet above the ground, Axel felt like he could probably see everything. It was a clear day, if a little misty, and from Axel's point of view the countryside, miles beyond the city itself, was visible. There were mountains off on another side, dressed in the sheer white dewiness of cloud and dotted with little villages. With the wind whipping in his face Axel slowly started to move around the lantern platform, even daring to get closer to the railing to look down over the rounded dome, tourists and Florentines like tiny ants scurrying around hundreds of feet below.

When he leaned out a bit farther Axel suddenly pulled himself back as vertigo pulled at his stomach and made him dizzy; it was almost like a power trip, being so high and standing atop a building that was hundreds of years old. Yet he also felt strangely vulnerable. One push, one solid gust of wind could send him over the rail and plummeting to his inescapable death. Axel wondered if that had ever happened to some poor dick. Could have been one hell of a mob hit.

"See?" Demyx shouted over the wind and other tourists. "Totally worth the Schwarzenegger calves later."

"I'll say." Axel firmly denied the presence of any awe or wonder in his tone at all later, but standing there on what felt like the top of the world, he felt perfectly at east to simply take it in. Words were tawdry and feeble, and could never hope to even approach a description of the panorama that did it justice.

All too soon the outlook was getting crowded; Axel found the other guys before they began the descent, which he would have argued was just as treacherous if not more so since it was difficult to gauge now steep some of the stairs were, and one seemed to gain momentum going down the spiral stone steps.

After a bit of lunch Axel parted ways with Demyx and Zexion, since they were all headed out in different directions to complete assignments and see the city. The afternoon found Axel headed out for another expedition, this time to the Pitti Palace; part of their combined sketchbook art/architecture class involved heading to one of the museums in Florence and just looking around, sketching things that caught their eye.

Axel checked his cell phone for the third time and sighed; he'd sent messages to Pence and Olette a while ago, hoping to gauge their responses for what was going on back in Rome. So far neither of them had answered his messages. The redhead frowned deeply and turned the phone off, stuffing it in his pocket.

A little bit later, while he was sitting in the gardens sketching, the phone started buzzing in his pocket. Axel veritably jumped in his seat, upending his various sketching supplies in the process as he went for the device, his heart beating a harsh staccato in his throat. Roxas, let it be Roxas – Olette, Pence, one of them, please, pleasepleaseplease-

It was Demyx. 'Going out for dinner in a bit. In?'

Axel let out a sigh, his mouth twisting a little as his heart fell back into place. 'Sure,' he typed back.

He was packing up his supplies when the second message came. 'Hotel in half/hour?' Axel sent off an affirmative and started heading for the exit; it was a bit of a trek back to the hotel from the Pitti Palace. Axel checked his phone one last time to make sure Roxas or Olette hadn't sent him anything, wondering why he was punishing himself with this. He knew in his gut that Roxas wasn't going to make the call or write him an apology or explanation, and neither would Olette or Pence. There wasn't much else for Axel to do other than to find Roxas himself and try to talk with him on his own terms.

When Axel stepped out onto the floor of Qube, he had only one thing on his mind: to find Roxas and try to talk with him. He wasn't sure why he was so sure Roxas was in the club – the chances were alright, but his own certainty was overwhelming. Roxas was here, and something was going to happen.

Qube was dark, the grinding and sweaty bodies populating the dance floor only briefly illuminated in flashes thanks to the multicolored strobe lights. Axel picked his way through them towards the center, closer to the stage, ignoring the fact that every person he moved past had no face at all.

Suddenly, the fast-moving strobes stopped, and the bodies – fuzzy, Axel vision was sort of blurry, did he have absinthe before leaving? – slowed down until they almost weren't moving. The strobes tilted down, focusing in on Axel and the empty circle he was standing in. He thought vaguely about Who Wants To Be A Millionaire, and if this was the hundred or the million dollar question and if he already used the 'phone a friend' lifeline.

"Have you ever been in love?" Xion's voice piped up, causing Axel to twist around wildly. He found the sophomore standing behind him a few feet away, looking at him seriously with bright blue eyes and shifting foot to foot, fists stuffed into the deep pockets of her cardigan. "Horrible, isn't it?" she answered with relish before Axel could say anything, as if they were sharing in a common hatred of something.

Axel frowned deeply. This was wrong. So he voiced his thoughts. "This is wrong."

"Is it?" she asked innocently.

"Yeah, how did-" Axel trailed off when he noticed Olette, also on the outskirts of his circle, dressed in her favorite orange top, khakis, and dancing shoes. Upon seeing that his attention had turned to her, she straightened and held up two books, one in each hand. "Olette?" Axel asked, a bit nervous about the books she was wielding.

"The Encyclopedia Galactica," she started, hefting one to indicate her subject, "in its chapter on 'love' states that it is far too complicated to define. The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy," she hefted the other, and Axel could clearly see the big friendly letters spelling out 'DON'T PANIC' on the cover, what the fuck was going on?, "has this to say on the subject of love: avoid," she said, her voice and expression turning hard, "if at all possible."

Axel paused to let this sink in. "Am I high?" he asked, arms out in supplication for any explanation.

"Nope." This time it was Xigbar's voice, accompanied by the distinct sound of teeth crunching into an apple's flesh. Axel turned and frowned at his roommate, who was now chewing a generous mouthful of apple. "Just crazy," he offered.

Axel looked sharply back towards Xion, who shrugged noncommittally. "Thanks, I feel better already," Axel rolled his eyes at the business-suit-clad senior.

"Hey, don't blame me. Why the fuck would I be in your stinking dream if that wasn't the case?"

"Point taken."

"Oh wait, I feel something philosophical and poetic coming up," Xigbar said, then made a wretching sound. "Better to have loved and lost," he croaked, "than never to have loved at all." Moments later the man grimaced. "Gonna go wash my mouth out with soap, thanks."

"Be my guest," Axel said.

"Why love if losing hurts so much?" This time Axel's attention was brought to Demyx, inexplicably dressed as a hippie with leather fringe and little circular pink glasses, strumming halfheartedly on a guitar.

"Do you want me to answer that?"

"We love," Demyx said pointedly, expression oddly soulful. "To know that we are not alone."

"So. You're all freaking me out. What's with all the love philosophy?"

"You're the puppet master," Xion said, tone awestruck but matter-of-fact. "I don't know Neil Gaiman quotes off the top of my head."

"You know," another familiar voice said pointedly and rather distastefully, "listen up." Axel followed the voice to find Larxene, her arms crossed sternly over her chest and her leather jacket pulled taut at the position. "The demand to be loved is the greatest of all arrogant presumptions."

"You would quote Nietzsche," Axel snorted. Larxene shrugged.

Suddenly there her hands on his biceps turning him around; Axel was now face to face with Margherita, except sans makeup, wig, and lacy skirt. "Where there is love," Margherita intoned patiently and in perfect English, voice deeper than Axel remembered. "There is pain."

"Sounds swell."

"Axel."

The redhead turned to look for the source of Zexion's voice, but jumped at what he saw. A figure, clearly Zexion based solely on the hair, clad in a suit composed completely of Kermit the Frog plushies and ridiculously pink sunglasses, stood before him. There was glitter in his hair in streaks, and freakishly tall boots on his feet, bringing him up to Axel's height.

Zexion hated Lady Gaga, more than Axel could ever express.

Ok. If Axel was iffy earlier, he couldn't deny it any longer: this was definitely a dream.

"The gospel according to Godga," Zexion intoned as if preparing to read from sacred scripture, adjusting the rhinestone-bedazzled glasses and clearing his throat, glittering purple lips pursing, "clearly states: Russian roulette is not the same without a gun. But when it's love, if it's not rough it isn't fun."

Oh God.

The club had started spinning, the atmosphere seeming to collapse in on Axel as his head jerked to follow voices. Marluxia was there, performing a Disney medley involving "A Whole New World" and the love theme from The Lion King 2. Xigbar blew a noisemaker at him. Demyx was warbling something or other.

Axel tore away from them, breaking into the unmoving crowd and heading for the bar. Hunched over against the cold wood of the bar, Axel took note of the innocent-looking hourglass among the glass tumblers and Collins glasses. When the lower torso of the bartender moved into his line of sight Axel slid several Euro bills across the wooden surface. "Campari on the rocks." When the bartender didn't move, Axel looked up, jaw dropping slightly.

"Goodbye," Roxas said, clearly and coldly, his eyes looking lifeless. "Because I love you." Then with one hand he put the red drink Axel had requested on the bar, and with the other he picked the hourglass up and placed it right next to the drink. Without blinking Roxas grasped them both again and upended them, sand funneling through the hourglass at an alarming pace while Axel's drink spilled out onto the countertop, red liquor soaking the dark wood. Axel watched for a few seconds as the sand continued to filter through.

"You do?" Axel asked, looking up again to find the area behind the bar completely empty. He stood, feeling rather unsteady on his feet, looking around the club cautiously. "Roxas?" he called. "Demyx?" Everything was completely still; there wasn't even so much as an echo when Axel called his friends' names. The club was eerily silent. "Roxas?" Axel called even louder. Only a low rumble answered him, followed closely by a shaking floor. In fact, the whole club was shaking, the lights blinking as they swung from the ceiling. The pillars cracking and stage were collapsing. Then the lights went dark, and Axel realized he must have fallen because the pit of his stomach clenched and he was sprawled on the ground – no, it was too soft to be the club floor, his face was pressed against something warm and soft, tiny hairs tickling his nose.

His own arm?

Axel blinked, then squeezed his eyes shut again and groaned, slowly waking to find his own face pressed into his arm and pillow; groggy and still faintly panicking that the earthquake from his dream had followed him into reality, his eyes flying around the room wildly and uselessly – it was pitch dark in the club, there was nothing to see. Everything was rattling though, Axel could hear the glasses on the bar jittering around on the table beside him.

"It's just an aftershock," he heard Demyx say, noticing the nervousness in his tone. "We'll be fine."

Axel opened both eyes at that. The glass of water on his nightstand – wait, weren't they in Qube? – was shaking along with the table, the liquid inside sloshing around and splashing droplets on the wood, vaguely illuminated by the courtyard light from outside their window.

Hotel room. Florence. Aftershocks. Right.

The earthquake had hit l'Aquila a few weeks ago, sending the first shockwaves all across central Italy; Axel had been woken at three AM to the shaking floor of Roxas' room, the window panes rattling violently and dangerously a few feet away. And Roxas, the deep sleeper who could probably snore his way through a marching band concert in his room, was practically plastered to Axel's side, rigid and tense with his arms wrapped around Axel's waist tightly, face buried between Axel's shoulder blades. He'd held him like that until the shockwave passed, before the blond shook it off like it had never happened the next morning. Until they had walked out to the kitchen to see the other three gathered around the little TV, watching the breaking news about the earthquake. We all live so precariously, Olette had said, watching the rescue crew transport a twisted, hidden body; Roxas held him a little tighter that night, and all Axel had wanted to say was 'don't let go.'

Axel threw his brain a mental middle finger at the recollection of that particular memory. What was a vicious punch to the gut, a stabbing in his chest compared to that pain? He tensed and breathed very carefully through his nose, trying to calm himself before the pain escaped him audibly.

Think about something else, the dream, what the hell was that dream all about? Axel closed his eyes and concentrated again, recalling various images from the quickly fading dream.

Zexion in a Lady GaGa costume … that made him shudder just a little. Why.

Why.

He remembered little things here and there, the club and seeing his friends appear around him … and Roxas, a bartender, and

Goodbye, because I love you.

Fucking freshman English class, why on earth would he pick out The Awakening of all things. Axel frowned as he tried to reassemble the rest of it. It seemed almost completely nonsensical to him, a bad acid trip or maybe a really good batch of space cake Demyx secretly fed him, that almost seemed to fit for him. The only thing that stood out for him – other than Zexion's GaGa garb because seriously, what the fuck – was Roxas, the overturned drink, and the sand quickly slipping away.

Axel's frown deepened exponentially. He didn't need a dream dictionary to figure that one out. Time was slipping away, yes, with about three weeks left before their planes left Fiumicino for the states. It wasn't much time, Axel realized, but he had a choice about what he wanted to do with the last few weeks of his study abroad and who he spent it with.

He just had to hope Roxas would allow Axel's presence in his vicinity.

The bus ride back from Florence saw Axel sitting pensively in his seat, plotting out his next move and trying to determine the best course of action that didn't involve Roxas probably dislocating his jaw. Of course, Roxas did still have some of Axel's stuff in his room. His laptop and books were kind of necessary to finish up the semester, so Axel hoped that at least he'd get his belongings back – then he could make his move from there. So when the bus dropped them off in front of the school building in the late afternoon, Axel waved away offers for dinner and alcohol and headed out in the direction of Roxas' apartment.

Frown settling in on his face, Axel took the buses that got him closer to Roxas' apartment building then walked the rest of the way. Axel figured it was a testament not only to how much more comfortable he was with the city but also to Roxas' help in understanding the winding alleys and connected roads that he actually made it there without much help. Though being that he practically lived there for a short period, the number of times he'd been there probably didn't hurt in learning the route. After a bit of searching – he was used to Roxas simply driving them up to the main door – he found the elaborately-decorated portal. With no key and no one appearing to be coming or going quite yet, Axel had only one choice left: he pressed the buzzer, looking pleadingly into the little camera that would show who the caller was to the buzzed apartment.

When no answer came through after several minutes, Axel pressed the buzzer again and checked his watch. It was well after three, so Roxas should be back from school now. If he was even at his apartment, that was, which with every passing second seemed more and more unlikely. Axel pressed the buzzer a third time groaning, "Come on Roxas. Just fucking answer, please."

The speaker system crackled with static for a moment, startling Axel out of his concentration.

Go away before I call the police, the voice Axel immediately recognized as Hayner's grumbled. You're annoying.

Is he up there? Axel asked, ignoring Hayner's threats. I just want to talk with him.

You really should leave now, Hayner said with finality.

My stuff is up there, Axel reasoned wearily. Can I at least get my things?

A long pause on the other end made Axel feel more uneasy. Come back later, Hayner said dismissively before the system went quiet again.

Are you serious? Axel demanded. It's just a backpack.

There were sounds of scuffling from the other side of the microphone; Axel clearly heard Olette growl at Hayner it's just his fucking backpack, stop being a little bitch before Hayner, clearly disgruntled acquiesced. I'll bring it down, he said wearily.

About ten minutes later the door was heaved open; however instead of Hayner it was Pence holding Axel's stuffed backpack and giving him a small, neutral smile. He handed the backpack over silently; then he said, a little sheepishly, Sorry about him. He's … well, he's kind of angry.

I gathered, Axel said darkly. I didn't mean to- he started, only to have Pence cut him off.

It's not my place, man. I'm not going to get involved, Pence said simply, shrugging slightly.

Axel nodded grimly. Thanks anyway.

Pence nodded in return. See you around, he said encouragingly, then closed the door behind him.

Axel put his hands in his pockets and set out again, this time back to his apartment, his jaw set in a firm determined line to find the blond and talk with him.

It wasn't until he got back to his apartment and started unloading his backpack when he realized something was missing.

"That little fucker," Axel seethed, still had his Supernatural season 3 DVDs.

Once class was over the next morning, Axel set out; he figured it might be a long shot, trying to find Roxas on a school day – but he had to give it a go, no one was answering his texts.

He checked in at Cloud's bar first since it was closest to the school, and the reception he received put him on extreme edge. Tifa was manning the bar, talking with a younger customer; he was shorter than her by a foot or so, with a head full of brown spiky hair who didn't turn around when Axel entered. She looked up when the door bell chimed, and Tifa's face went from expectant and happy to flat and enraged in mere milliseconds. Axel ran before the cornetto projectile hit the glass door.

Shit.

Via del Corso was next; tourists were starting to crowd the ever-popular street, the spring being one of the busier times of the year for Rome as far as tourism went. Even so, there was no blasting music for him to follow, no dancers carving out a tourist and pedestrian-free zone in the squares. Axel even checked in Others, and though GianCarlo and Lorenzo gave him a pretty warm welcome they had no information on where Roxas might be, other than his apartment.

Axel considered scouting the Borghese Gardens for a bit since it had been one of their favorite places to picnic and horrify little old couples with public displays of affection – but its sheer vastness was a daunting fact that kept him from venturing in. Coming Out was open but rather empty, and Axel didn't know where Roxas' school was so that was out of the question. The chances that Roxas was just hiding out in his apartment (watching Supernatural) were stacking up; the hundreds of thousands of people who had poured into the city for Holy Week weren't helping in the slightest.

After exhausting nearly every other option available Axel paid a visit to Le Montecarlo, hoping that maybe Roxas would be working. Putting his height advantage to good use Axel searched the main rooms from the entryway, though he could not find Roxas. Instead he recognized one of the servers as a friend of the blond's and waved, getting his attention. "Vaan," he called out, annoyance bubbling up when he saw the frustrated expression on the young man's face as he reluctantly made his way over to him.

You should stop looking for him, Vaan said immediately, brushing dirty blond bangs out of his eyes. He's not going to see you, Roxas is done with you.

I need to talk with him, Axel continued doggedly. I want to talk this out.

Roxas isn't going to let that happen. It's over.

Why the fuck do you keep saying that?

Vaan shrugged. Look man, all I know is he was really angry when he was in last week. Nearly beheaded some customers when he threw their platters at them. That's Roxas holding it in, what do you think he's going to do to you? You'd be shish kabob man, let him cool off.

I don't think what I said is anything to get killed for.

Vaan stared. You're American, but I know you're not stupid – Roxas wouldn't put up with you if that was the case. Figure it out.

Axel narrowed his eyes. My being American has nothing to do with this.

Sure it does, Vaan said tiredly. You may walk, talk, eat and live like an Italian, but that's all a lie. You being American is important, you can't stay here running wild forever. Italy is like . . . a summer fling. You have fun while you can because once the summer is over you will never see that person again.

Waxing philosophical now, aren't you, Axel said acidly.

I speak the truth, Vaan snapped, apparently growing impatient. The chances of you ever returning to Italy, and therefore seeing Roxas after you leave, are slim. And you have the balls to want something more out of that relationship? You don't get to ask for that.

I don't know what I was asking for, Axel said miserably. I just don't see it as a bad thing.

Everything he has ever loved has deserted him in the past, Vaan said bluntly. And you will do the same. With that he turned and headed back into the boisterous dining room, leaving Axel in the entryway of the restaurant until he turned around and left. It was getting late, and Axel was starting to figure Roxas was probably hiding out in his room so Axel could never find him – obviously his friends knew Axel was looking for him, they'd give him the heads up so he could take cover.

Tuesday was the last day of Axel's architecture class. More definite proof that the semester was quickly drawing to a close frustrated him, but still made Axel look at his surroundings, at the scenery he passed every day either on foot or by bus a little harder, sketching it into his memory.

Axel was cooking dinner when he heard his cell chirp Tuesday afternoon. After turning the heat down on the stove he darted into his room, pulling the cell phone from the pocket of a pair of jeans. A brief glance at the screen revealed that the caller was Olette.

Olette, who hadn't returned his calls or messages – like Roxas and the others – since that night, which had only been a few days ago, but still.

Axel clicked the 'accept' button and put the phone to his ear. "Olette?" he said, voice dry.

He heard her swallow on the other end of the line. "Axel."

"You, uh. You get my message?" Well, plural, but he wasn't going to say that.

"No," she answered shortly. "Listen. You should stop this. It's not healthy."

"I just want to talk with him. I love him, Olette." Axel could almost see her wince at that.

"He's not," she broke off, sounding uncomfortable. "You don't want to play this game with him right now. He's … Axel, he's very combative if you push him too far. He's already angry."

"Where is he, Olette," Axel said, his tone hardening.

She paused again, then seemed to resign. "Muca. Qube. Or he will be later, I don't know where he is now."

"Are you sure?"

"Positive."

"Thank you, Olette."

There was a pause on the other end of the line. "I'm still really not sure this is the best idea. I don't know whether to be worried about you …. or him."

"I won't hurt him."

"You don't understand," Olette pleaded. "If you do this, you will."

Axel made a defensive gesture, tensing up and ready to argue, before he abandoned it. "Please trust me, Olette."

Olette was silent again for a few moments; Axel could see her chewing on her lip in his mind's eye, glaring up at the ceiling while she tried to decide whether she believed him or not. "You are my friend too, and I know how you feel. But right now, it is not a good time to do this."

"There's never a good time," Axel muttered. Then he cleared his throat. "Don't worry, ok? It'll be fine."

Olette licked her lips and murmured a quiet agreement a moment later. "I will talk with you later," she said, then hung up.

Axel felt the smallest twinge of déjà vu as he walked into Qube; the dream still relatively vivid in his mind, Axel hoped it didn't end that way. The situation already felt slightly surreal since he'd managed to make it to the Pyramide stop and to the club itself without needing much assistance other than from a taxi driver, but Axel felt like he was comfortable enough with the city that he couldn't just attribute it to luck. He hadn't even really felt like dressing up for the club, so he left the apartment in the jeans that Roxas coerced him to buy and a simple short sleeve shirt with his leather jacket. Axel didn't really expect this to be a sexy outing, anyway.

The club was just as crowded as ever, and maybe it was just him but no one seemed to be behaving as predatory – or at least outwardly. The DJ was playing some song he hadn't heard, but some paranoid part of his brain thought maybe it was warning him. 'Somebody call 9-1-1' indeed, Axel thought apprehensively, the Latin dance beat picking the dancers up again with renewed vigor. Axel found it hard to pick out the lyrics, he had to focus on finding Roxas – if he was even here, if Olette wasn't lying to him.

As the beat pounded through the speakers all around the club, Axel began his search for Roxas. The bar area was packed, but there were no petite blonds to match his description sufficiently; after a bit of fruitless searching Axel decided to just head up to the balcony area – at least from there he would have a much broader view of the club. Unfortunately, trying to pick Roxas out from above was near impossible as well, the strobe lights were fleeting over people's heads at a rate too fast to really catch anything.

Fuck this, Axel thought, and descended the stairs to check the more private rooms. He wasn't even going to try looking on the second black-lit floor of the club.

After pushing though several groups of dancers Axel roamed into the corner of the club, where couches were set up in smaller more private rooms - and that was where he finally saw him.

Or rather, where he saw the back of him, since Roxas was currently straddling another guy's lap, his back to Axel and his face intimately involved in the other's. There was a large hand tucked into the back pocket of Roxas' jeans, squeezing as the blond repositioned himself, and another hand tangled in Roxas' hair, guiding the deep kiss. Shell-shocked for a moment, Axel caught himself absently admiring the solid muscles of Roxas' shoulders, the slender curve of his back, and felt sick to his stomach. Just then someone jostled past him, knocking Axel out of his reverie; Roxas rose from his position and pulled his partner up before dragging him out onto the dance floor.

Axel realized bitterly how voyeuristic this was, but he couldn't tear his eyes away. He remembered dancing with Roxas on many occasions, molding his body to the blond's and sliding his hands over Roxas' sides, settling them at his hips as they moved, bodies oscillating all around them. It progressed so easily in his mind to sex, and having sex with Roxas, sweat-slick bodies moving against each other to their own rhythm. Axel swallowed thickly, his mouth dry, as he watched Roxas smirk and grind back against his new dance partner, heart thudding in his throat.

Sometime later - Axel lost track as he watched them practically fuck on the dance floor – Roxas pulled away, hand placed intimately on the other man's chest as he whispered something in his ear. With a chuckle Roxas headed for the bar, the other man's hand lingering in his as if they'd be loath to part.

Eyes narrowing, Axel started making his way through the dancing crowd to intercept the blond.

Roxas noticed his presence and trajectory as he got closer; his face fell and the smile withdrew, all in the few seconds before Roxas changed direction to avoid Axel. The redhead was close enough though, and shouted his name, but Roxas kept going. As he caught up again Axel reached out for the blond's retreating form, only to have his hand pushed off course.

"Hey! Hold on now," Axel shouted, frustrated and annoyed at the treatment.

Roxas shoved Axel again and darted away; Axel almost lost him amid the pillars and more private rooms to the rear of Qube, but the strobe light catching his blond hair made it marginally easier. The redhead pursued him doggedly, finally cornering him in an empty, low-lit room. Roxas' back was to him, his entire body tensed and ready to spring as he took soothing breaths.

Come on Roxas, don't be like this. Can we just talk? he asked, reaching out for the blond's hand.

Roxas whirled and smacked Axel's hand away, shouting "No!" His hands balled into tight fists and squeezed. No, we can't. Leave me alone.

Please, Axel ground out desperately. Just listen-

No! I am done listening, I've heard enough. Maybe you should be the one listening, I told you we were through!

Why? Block and evade, counter and attack – was this really what they'd come to? The rest of the club's shouting and heavy music was only white noise now.

Typical American, Roxas sneered, seething. 'No' is never a good enough answer, you just force the issue and force it until someone gives you the answer you want to hear. No, not me. I'm not yours Axel, get that memorized.

Axel was momentarily stung as his own joking phrase was thrown back at him, before he recovered and narrowed his eyes. Fuck you, my being American has nothing to do with this. This is about us-

It has everything to do! Roxas – he roared, and Axel realized that he'd never heard Roxas sound so completely enraged . . . and hurt. He was blazing, unstoppable, and Axel was in the line of fire. Hell, he'd started this firestorm. You have no fucking clue. You're so fucking caught up in yourself you don't even see it. You're leaving, you asshole. Leaving, probably for good, and you have the fucking balls to tell me that you love me? What are you playing at? How- Roxas suddenly advanced on Axel, shoving him in the chest as he spoke, the words forming from a growl in his throat, the hell, do you expect, me to respond?

Not like this! Axel raged back. I don't have all the answers, but I do know what I feel for you. I don't have to go home forever, I want to come back!

Bullshit, no one comes back to stay. And for what? Some half-assed long-distance relationship we'll fall out of anyway? I'd rather not waste my time.

How do you know that's what it'll be like? Axel demanded. I could talk to the deans, finish up this semester, try to transfer to the American University-

Roxas cut him off mid-sentence. What are you trying to prove? We're over, there's no point.

But I love-

Don't say that. I don't want to hear it, Roxas snapped, shoulders tensing even more if it was possible. I didn't expect you to react like this. But it's better this way, the way it should have been. I want you to leave me alone now.

Axel stood his ground instead. No.

What the fuck do you mean, 'no'? Get the fuck out, I'm done talking with you.

No, we're not done. You think I want to go back now? I want to stay here-

You sound pathetic, Roxas snarled. It doesn't matter what you want, you'll be leaving soon anyway. Get over it, he said coldly. You were good for a laugh and a fuck, so save me the dramatics and stop bothering me.

Says the hopeless fucking romantic who couldn't stand the thought of me leaving last week, Axel responded, tone low and biting.

Don't flatter yourself. I'm over it now, don't assume I'll be crying over having the bed to myself. In fact if you keep this up, I may even celebrate.

Oh come on Roxas, Axel said, his tone bordering on mockery. He could feel his carefully constructed control slipping; all he wanted to do now was lash out, let the words sting and poison just as much as Roxas allowed his to. We both know that's not true, he sneered. You don't want to admit it, but 'celebrating' will be the last thing on your mind. At least I'm not hiding it.

You're fucking delusional, the blond hissed, but Axel caught the brief widening of his eyes and the frown that flickered over his face. I don't need you, I'm done. I don't care, and you are making a complete ass of yourself.

Right, because you don't need anyone, Axel laughed.

You're right, I don't, Roxas responded. Certainly not some obnoxious American who thinks he can waltz around and assume I'm his boyfriend.

You know, I honestly I don't know why you're so upset. I get it, you didn't love me – but aren't I the one with the reason to be pissed? Because if you think about it, all you had to say was 'sorry Axel, I just don't feel like that.' But no, you flip your fucking shit, but I'm not allowed because I'm a stupid American. Your funny American. Sex and entertainment all in one, right? So why the fuck are you so pissed, I wonder.

Roxas snapped. You didn't have to take it there, he raged, getting right up in Axel's face and personal space. His lips, Axel couldn't help but notice, were trembling slightly even as they curled up into a snarl. You ruined it, it was fun.

Axel was at a loss for words at that, his internal translator faltering in those few seconds. Roxas took advantage.

And that's all it ever could be, don't you see that? You come here, Americans, people from all over, to study. And you can't stay forever, you know that. This, it's a fantasy. A trip, a break from normal studying. Rome is your escape, just for a little bit. But this is my reality, and I have to deal with the pieces when you leave. So I did not want you to get serious - I had a good time with you, but it's time to move on.

Axel felt his rage and frustration quiet, a sickening acknowledgement filling in where they once brimmed. "Roxas," he said quietly, reaching for the younger man.

What did I just say? Roxas blanched angrily, his expression morphing at the flip of a switch as he backed out of Axel's reach.

This guy bothering you? Axel turned and found Roxas' new … person glaring at him impassively, an arm slipping around Roxas' waist while the other one handed the blond a drink. This guy wasn't really that attractive, Axel thought bitterly, if one hated scars. But otherwise, he wasn't that bad-looking – longish brown hair, handsome face, decent body - and Axel had the distinct sense that though the other guy was pretty much expressionless, he probably wouldn't think twice about starting a brawl with him even in the club.

Axel merely gave the newcomer a telling smirk.

No, Roxas answered, donning a neutral expression that almost matched the brunet's. It's fine.

"Yeah, no worries," Axel said cavalierly. Go with your new guy or whatever. I need to get my DVDs soon by the way. I'll get out of your way. Have fun, he finished bitingly.

Roxas gave him a sharp look, but said nothing.

Axel turned and walked away, waving over his shoulder as he reentered the main club. After all of shouting and heated discussion in a secluded room, Axel almost welcomed the cacophony of sounds, the barrage of grinding beats and the bodies crowding all around him. He disappeared into the crowd and back out the door, the hollow cavity in his chest feeling more like a huge, gaping maw with each purposeful step and calming breath. A mantra formed in his mind, steady and repetitive and in time with his footfalls – so what, so what, keep walking

The quotes featured in this chapter, as they appear:

Xion; "Have you ever been in love? Horrible, isn't it?" – Neil Gaiman

Olette; "The Encyclopedia Galactica, in its chapter on Love states that it is far too complicated to define. The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy has this to say on the subject of love: Avoid, if at all possible." – The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy, by Douglas Adams

Xigbar; "Better to have loved and lost than never to have loved at all." – Alfred Lord Tennyson

Demyx; "Why love if losing hurts so much? We love to know that we are not alone." – C.S. Lewis

Larxene; "The demand to be loved is the greatest of all arrogant presumptions." – Friedrich Nietzsche

Margherita; "Where there is love, there is pain." – Spanish proverb

Zexion; Lady GaGa

Roxas; "Goodbye, because I love you." – The Awakening, Kate Chopin

And, uh …. please don't kill me? I promise that it won't be another 4 months for 10. /pinkie-swear