Title: Moped Romance [the bonus track]

Pairing: Axel/Roxas

Warnings: nostalgia, fluff.
Rating: PG.
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, Merrill Amos.

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: What, you think I'd leave them like that? Maybe there is a happy ending around here somewhere . . .

One last note: Merrill Amos is actually a singer/songwriter/musician and former classmate of mine, she recently released her first CD on iTunes. She opened for Safety Suit when they were on campus, and this particular song really caught me as appropriate. Give her a listen! She has her own website, .com – click under 'music' and scroll down to "Don't Forget to Breathe."

Bonus Track – Don't Forget to Breathe

Oh the world says I haven't loved enough to know

That this time I'm falling

Maybe I don't wanna get up

Girl said, I know that you're not here with me,

Don't know if you'll ever be

But I'm madly in love with the idea

I know if you can hear me now

Don't say a word

But just breathe out the sounds

I know you got me figured out

And all that's left is air between us now

So don't forget to breathe

And I've stood on both sides of the ocean

knowing better than to call this a dream

It just wouldn't be life without finding the right one to need

We've all got our reasons

It had been seven, almost eight years when Axel took his first steps on Italian soil again, twelve hours of travel at his back when he reentered Fiumicino airport. Sitting for that length of time had put a crick in his back and neck, so once they were clear of the door and the other passengers rushing along Axel stopped and stretched, groaning as the kinks were worked out. Then, surrounded by a weary-looking group who clearly thought he was insane, he breathed in the smell of the espresso five feet away, the cornetti filled with nutella and cream just behind the turned to the young woman standing beside him, grinning excitedly. "How's the six hour trip treating you?"

The young woman looked about to drop. In fact, all of the students Axel had just led off the plane looked to be in about the same condition.

"What is this, don't you guys know where you are?" he asked, dumbfounded by their lackluster reactions. It was, granted, two in the morning in Rome and a lot of the kids hadn't slept at all on the plane, but still.

"How much farther, Professor Sinclaire?"

Axel would never tire of hearing the 'professor' bit. "Still a little ways. Everybody got everything? Is everybody here, no one needs to use the bathroom or anything? Good, let's move!"

Eight long years, but at least he could still speak Italian. It had been rusty at first, relearning alongside his students the previous semester, but had most certainly improved. Originally just a faculty advisor for the trip, Axel had jumped at the chance when one of the teachers asked him to take her place. His master's program and full-time job had kept him stateside for the last eight years; he'd watched his friends all return for spring break or the summer, mentally shaking his fist at them as they sent him Facebook messages from the Abbey.

The nostalgia was something he dealt with on a daily basis; when he first got back home he had trouble adjusting – not even the butcher shop carried the prosciutto and pancetta he liked to cook with, nothing tasted the same, he had to actually drive again. For a while he thought very hard about opening a restaurant that served actual Italian food; he could tell it was bad when he had to stop himself from crying "Travesty!" at the sight of meatballs in his spaghetti, because really, no self-respecting Italian cook would do such a thing. His parents had stopped taking him to Italian restaurants after that, though Reno fully encouraged that behavior since it put the waiters in a panic.

He longed for espresso and cornetti, not the watery coffee and oily croissants he received along with wide-eyed fear (for his sanity) instead. He longed for saltimbocca, for pasta cacio e pepe, for the incredible wonders that lurked, just waiting to be discovered – a famously decorated chapel with Caravaggios on three walls tucked away in a church boarded up for repairs but still open to the public, the ultimate art supply store behind three different churches and an almost impassible labyrinth of alleys, the gelateria in a tiny alcove that produced new flavors each week and welcomed a few lucky customers present at its unveiling to name the new flavor. He missed the markets, wandering around to each stall and marveling at the vibrant colors and myriad of smells. The dubbed-over American cartoons and strange Italian serials, walking on cobbled streets thousands of years old. The aromas of freshly baked bread, of fragrant, drying meat from the butcher shop, the multitude of scents associated with all of the different cheeses.

So finally, after he'd been working hard for seven years and the head of the program asked him to come along, Axel didn't even pause.

But now, with five months to spend roaming his favorite place ahead of him, Axel was starting to get a little nervous. Far deeper than any of the nostalgia he felt for Rome was the thought of the blond who had made the trip more worthwhile by a thousand fold, the boy he'd loved and had to let go. With a population of over four million, Axel was almost certain his chances of finding Roxas were zero. Even if Roxas was still living in Rome there was almost no way – and by now he might have moved on, back north to his family's house or to some other city. He might've even fallen in love with someone else – and if that was the case and he did find him, what then? They had agreed, after all – moving on was perfectly acceptable and expected; Roxas didn't want Axel to waste his life away thinking he was the only one for him, and Axel wholly agreed. Find someone, be happy, they'd told each other. So far Axel hadn't found anyone he liked enough to stay with, though not for lack of trying – but he was happy.

Axel often thought of the blond, his face etched in memories and memory cards, preserved on them and his computer for when he missed him the most. He still wore Roxas' necklace, so stealthily hidden in his backpack before his departure – though he had also added a charm of his own, an elaborate, antique key that reminded him of the blond's shoulder tattoo somehow. It was the only thing he had from Roxas, and even then he thought of it as a very important, intimate part of him; in all their time together Roxas had never taken it off, but had told him it was precious and not something he'd give up easily – much like you, Roxas had said softly, humming when Axel kissed him soundly.

Anything could trigger a memory, or make Axel think of him – when Lady GaGa released the videos for "Bad Romance" and "Telephone" Axel watched them avidly and laughed to himself, knowing Roxas would be manically practicing and perfecting the dance moves like the fanboy he was. Despite his dislike of GaGa, Axel purchased "The Fame Monster," listening to it over and over again, each song reminding him even more of his Italian former boyfriend. He wondered if Roxas ever achieved his dream to dance with her. A waiter putting a plate of saltimbocca in front of him – Roxas' favorite dish; seeing the actors who played Emmett and Ted on 'Queer as Folk' appear on 'Bones', Demyx's favorite show and the mandatory Thursday night TV after they got an apartment together after moving to upstate New York for jobs; an old Vespa in the window of a repair shop, waiting for some soul to claim it – all brought something back to him.

The first few months were the worst. There was a vaguely harrowing episode over the summer after his return – Zexion sent him a link to an Italian news story about someone torching Qube to the point of it needing to be rebuilt entirely, which sent Axel into a panic. They found out later no one had been inside, so that eased Axel's mind somewhat – following that announcement he'd been trying desperately to get his Italian cell phone working again just for a message, but to no avail. Any memory would feel as fresh and sharp as if it were new.

As time went on it changed; Axel wouldn't say things got better per say, or even easier – he simply felt more numb to the pangs of loss and sadness. His longing waned until it was a dull roar rumbling in his chest, still acknowledged but largely ignored for the sake of his sanity.

Then his colleague turned to him and asked, "Would you go in my place?"

It had been as if the last few years of his dulled longing never happened. Axel wondered if he'd screamed his answer in her face, the other professor always seemed to flinch now whenever he turned to speak with her. Nevertheless, everything was a blur after that.

Axel never looked back.

0o0

After settling into his apartment – a decent-sized flat between the Scuola Leonardo da Vinci and, Axel had laughed extensively, La Montecarlo pizzeria – Axel started wandering, locating their former haunts and immersing himself in the memories. They were as fresh and clear as they were eight years ago now that he was back in his favorite city. The Borghese park, the hill behind the Vatican, the pizzerias, Coming Out, Qube – now renamed 'Muca II'; he returned to them all, hoping for a glimpse of an old white moped or a blond, blue-eyed – man. The wheels in Axel's brain came to a crashing halt.

Roxas would be twenty-four now.

That was just plain weird. Axel could only visualize him as the sixteen-year-old boy in a leather jacket with headphones and oversized sunglasses. All he had as a template for an older Roxas was Cloud . . . which didn't quite click in Axel's mind.

The places had changed, though some veritable institutions had survived the years and proved themselves almost as resilient as the unchanging ruins of the Forum. The staff at the Abbey Theatre was different, newer and a bit younger than Axel remembered, leaving him wondering where Oliver, Sam, Theresa, and Sandro had ended up. Some of the storefronts had changed, businesses had turned over – Cloud's bar included. The new owner had no idea where Cloud and Tifa had relocated to, but he did know it had something to do with children.

One day, after stopping in to talk with a representative at the American University, Axel even ended up outside the apartment building that had once housed Roxas and his friends. The person who answered the buzzer definitely wasn't any of them though, but Axel knew all four of them couldn't have stayed in the same place for eight years.

Regardless of being unable to find any familiar faces, Axel was confident this stay would be just as amazing. After all, he was back in the city he'd been dreaming about for years – what could possibly be better?

The first day of classes Axel met his students in the secretary's office of the Scuola Leonardo da Vinci, a very familiar and unchanged institution. For a little bit he was stuck holding court with the other professor leading the trip, hearing the timeless complaints about roommates and any issues with the apartments. Everything was going according to plan – they hadn't lost anyone, everyone had kept their baggage together, taxis had taken everyone to the right place. Then the ageless director of the scuola caught his eye, and Axel asked the students to simmer down. The older man welcomed them to Rome and the scuola in heavily accented English, then talked a little about the history of the scuola and what they offered.

"Now I know Professor Quinn and I discussed your teachers here, but there has been a small change. I had to replace one of your teachers with another one, that is all."

The door opened behind them, bell chiming to signal someone's entrance behind them.

"Signore Pietrino will be taking over one of the classes."

The world fell into hushed silence. All Axel could hear was white noise as he turned, mind screaming 'WHAT?' and 'IT COULDN'T BE.'

There was a young man in the doorway now, a young man with impeccably-styled blond hair and big blue eyes staring at him with an identical expression of utmost disbelief, jaw slack and eyes wide. He was taller, courtesy of seven-almost-eight years, leather coat newer than the one he remembered, a green and white houndstooth scarf around his neck. He was even carrying a helmet in one hand. The blond was staring, and Axel's heart felt ready to beat right out of his chest because it was him.

It was Roxas and Axel couldn't help but wonder if he recognized him – Axel's hair was shorter, still untamed and red, and maybe he wore glasses now but it wasn't that much of a change. It had been eight years, after all.

That question was answered when a heavy silver helmet hit the floor and bounced, rolling away from its owner, forgotten. Which was when Axel remembered that Roxas couldn't forget him thanks to his nearly photographic memory, and Axel grinned like a man possessed.

Then Roxas let out a rather undignified sound and leapt at him.

Axel caught the flying blond easily and wrapped his arms around Roxas like a vice, lifting him in the embrace until Roxas' feet left the floor. Something wet – lips – was pressing against his ear while Axel marveled at how real Roxas felt, wrapped up tightly in his arms, and how right this felt – how well the pieces lined up despite the last eight years. No one else in the world could possibly know happiness like he did.

When Axel finally got around to releasing the blond, his students and the rest of the staff were staring at them with wide, confused eyes. Roxas turned to him and muttered, Your class, professor?

Be good to them, Axel chuckled.

Will you wait until after we are done? Roxas asked hopefully.

I will, Axel nodded.

Good. Then Roxas turned to the class, as if nothing had transpired between him and one of their teachers, and greeted them enthusiastically.

Axel waited out in the piazza in front of the scuola, going over some of the student paperwork that had been left undone. The students filed out an hour later, greeting him as they passed; it was a little bit later that a set of motorcycle boots planted in front of him and didn't move.

"Ti sei perso?"

The hint of amusement in the tone brought a wide grin to Axel's face as he looked up. Roxas had his helmet under his arm, and the sun cast right on his hair like a halo. "No, aspettavo una persona." I'm waiting for someone.

Roxas held out his hand; when Axel grasped it tightly Roxas helped hoist him up off his stone seat.

Let's go for a walk.

They sat and drank in a new bar up the street, espresso warm between their hands as they talked, figuring out where their lives had taken them. Roxas had, in fact, auditioned for a spot as one of Lady GaGa's background dancers for part of her European tour – "I danced to 'American Boy,'" he said with a quirked smile - but a torn ligament in his ankle had effectively dashed the dream of performing with her. He was however ecstatic to announce that she was a really cool person and had visited him during his brief stay at the hospital following the audition. After that he focused on getting into university and finding a new job; the one at the Scuola was mostly temporary, as he was hoping to get into journalism at some point.

I watched your plane leave, you know, Roxas said. I was there, but you didn't see me.

I saw you. Very stealthy, by the way, Axel said, amusement creeping into his tone as he tugged the chain that had once been Roxas' out from underneath his shirt.

Roxas sipped his espresso, a smile spreading to his eyes. I like it better on you, he said, fingers reaching out to touch the charms that dangled in front of him. I arrived too late though. I wanted to say goodbye.

We did say goodbye – before, at my apartment.

Again, Roxas clarified. In the last moment I weakened, and … I didn't want you to go.

I almost ran off the plane, Axel admitted.

Roxas smiled broadly, if a bit embarrassed. So you are back. For how long?

Five months, Axel answered.

Roxas nodded.

Enough time to start over, Axel said, his gaze hopeful. If, you know, I'm not too old for you.

Roxas looked back down at his espresso, drumming his fingers against the small ceramic cup. If we were to start over, I could not accept five months.

What if I accepted the position I've been offered at the American University?

Roxas started and stared at him for several long minutes, eyes brilliant and wide with hope and maybe, just maybe this could work. The image of an apartment somewhere in the city, with them cooking in the little kitchen sprang to Axel's mind – of meeting Roxas for lunch between classes, driving around the city, eating lunch in the squares, all tantalizing and ready for the taking. They were all set before him, all they had to say was Yes.

Roxas looked back down at his cup, still smiling brilliantly, and said, Let's see where this takes us, right? We have been apart for many years.

"Yeah," Axel grinned, already planning his letter of acceptance for the position. I can do that. And this time we're on the same page.

They finished their coffee and paid, eventually deciding to go on a little joyride before parting again; it had been many long years since they'd been together, but when Roxas led them to his ancient white moped it was almost as if no time had passed. Time had changed them both, enough for Axel to know that, as they took the old moped for a spin, things would be different this time around. This time Axel had no time limit, no hesitation, and no qualms about starting over (what he isn't ready for is the chaos that reigns when Roxas takes over his apartment with all of his stuff, but that's beside the point) since fate had brought him back to the only place where he felt like he truly belonged.

All roads still led back to Rome.

0o0o0o0oo0o0o0o0o

Now I'm done.

Right?

Yes.

Thanks to everyone who read this and put up with my odd posting schedule/lapses/long periods of absence/general craziness. Special thanks to everyone who reviewed and kept me going with encouragement, concrit and flailing 3

Also thank you to my lovely betas for putting up with me for so long – and for cracking the whip when it was necessary.

This story started out as a one-shot back in February/March of 2009, based on an almost-unbelievable night as related to me by my dearest friend José. He was out drinking one night, and after a little bit too much he called me at three AM, waking me out of a deep sleep. He asked me for directions home, then promptly got lost. He was, however, saved by what he described as 'an angel on a moped' who gave him a ride back to his apartment, then accompanied José back up to his apartment. He obviously made it a little farther than Axel ;)

But anyway, this is how the whole thing started: "Jen. You are NEVER going to believe what happened last night."

I can't tell you how many times I heard that over our study abroad.

Anyway, I hope you all enjoyed this little adventure. If you have any questions about it leave me a note, and I'll try to get to it as fast as I can.

Cheers 3