a/n: Hi there, this is chapter 12 of The Cool Guy. It's been a while, hasn't it? But it's here, and I hope you like it. I'd like to thank all of you who reviewed this story! It encourages me a lot. :) Also, if you're looking for an akuroku, romantic comedy that's insanely quirky, and if you've ever laughed at The Cool Guy, I recommend checking out my fic Hack Value. If you want. Entirely up to you.
Kingdom Hearts is the property of Square and Disney, as always.
Chapter Twelve
Roxas wasn't a particularly religious person.
Actually, this was the understatement of a lifetime. Not only had he, throughout his less than idyllic childhood, not gone to church or engaged in any form of activity remotely related to worship, he had also on numerous occasions taken part in small acts of desecration.
No, he didn't go around burning icons, but he did assist in several annual toilet-papering sessions, and was perhaps somewhat less than cordial in his dealings with the children of the many bible thumpers that small towns seem to have a tremendous propensity for fostering.
And if Roxas equated "somewhat less than cordial" to "poorly disguised contempt bordering on hostile mockery," then who could blame him?
Except, of course, for Him, whom Roxas did not believe in nor had the slightest inclination to want to believe in.
And yet Roxas couldn't shake the slight suspicion that if there was somebody omnipotent watching him from above, then it was quite probable that they hated him, just a tiny bit. It wasn't only the past few minutes--ones of impending failure--that gave him cause to think this. No, there had been a smattering of incidents, like freckles upon the face of a redhead, all of which perhaps contributed to his key phrase in times of stress or crisis--
God dammit.
In light of this, it was ridiculous for him to spend his precious seconds ticking away to the discovery of his identity hoping for divine intervention.
He did it anyway, trying to look frantically around himself for something, anything, anyone, that could aid him, without arousing the interest of Axel, who was a mere hand's breadth away from his sleeve.
Since Axel wasn't looking at him anyway, Roxas gave up the pretense and twisted around, waiting for something to come up. For something to happen. An event, or a person, divine or otherwise. Something that would get Axel to stop. That would keep them away from Larxene, whom Roxas hadn't even suspected would be a huge liability--although thinking about it, it became obvious to him. Anyone with a gaze that sharp who had seen him before his disguise, not once but twice, would be very confused about why he was trotting about looking so different, but would no doubt not realize that Roxas very much didn't want to divulge his real name to his present company.
She was going to call his name, they weren't thirty steps from the door now, she would call "Roxas?" and it would all be over. Everything.
In his frenetic searching Roxas missed a step and stumbled against the low stone wall that ran adjacent to the sidewalk and the line of stores.
It took no more than this occurrence for hope to flood Roxas's brain, that and the idea that he must be a strange breed of masochist.
Before Axel could turn his head, and before Larxene would be able to see clearly, Roxas pulled his leg back.
Then he swung his foot forward into the stone wall with all the strength he could muster.
Whack went the wall.
Crikkk went his foot.
Of course, this happened simultaneously, and the sound that resulted was rather close to someone kicking cement like they'd kick a soccer ball in fighting for the last point of a championship, but was also not unlike the sickeningly crunchy sound heard when someone or something lands after having fallen from a great height. Roxas had never heard the latter; hadn't even heard the former, but this didn't matter because in the moment of impact his vision went a little white before he teetered dizzily on the spot, resulting in his not hearing either sound with anything resembling clarity.
And Axel stopped in his tracks.
Roxas fell, disappearing beneath the heads of city-walkers and out of Larxene's line of vision, gripping his foot and grimacing.
"What the hell?" Axel dropped to one knee, green eyes flickering with confusion and concern.
"My foot!" Roxas yelped. He got a dose of concern of his own--the high pitched quality to his voice wasn't acting, as soon as he noticed how wet and sticky his sock felt, and how he, strangely, couldn't seem to feel his toes.
"What happened?!"
"My foot!"
"I can see that--"
"It's bleeding--"
"Yes. Now calm down. It's okay."
"It's bloody well not okay!"
"Let me have a look. Hold still."
"No!" For the life of him, Roxas couldn't keep the panic out of his voice. He knew he was supposed to be acting like Sora, but kicking the wall was supposed to be a distraction, not a horrible injury. If Axel's hand got any closer, he was going to take off his shoe and sock and Roxas did not want to see his toes bloody and mangled. But even more important than that, if they stayed much longer then Larxene was bound to come out of the store and see what was wrong. Roxas wasn't certain she'd noticed the situation, and if there was a chance she hadn't, then he wanted to get as far away as possible.
Not to mention that it was entirely possible that Roxas would faint, in which case Axel would undoubtedly bring him to the book store. His face paled as he imagined what sort of chat that would be, between the two of them, with him lying unconscious somewhere. He'd rather deal with his mother than have to wake up and deal with that.
"Please," Roxas said. Axel's hand stopped its mission, hanging in the air between them. Roxas had his back to the stone, while Axel was efficiently holding up the sidewalk. Larxene was nowhere in sight, but Roxas knew it was only a matter of moments. He had to do some fast-talking.
"Well, then let's get you into the bookstore so we can take a--"
"You can't."
Dammit, why did this guy actually have to be logical in a crisis? Who would have guessed?
Axel arched an eyebrow, still worried but also amused. "Then what do you suggest? I can't leave you bleeding in the middle of the street. Well. I could, but that'd be rather… counterproductive."
"We're on the sidewalk," Roxas corrected automatically, missing the sudden inquisitive twitch, "and I suggest you take me…" Roxas attempted to stop time with his mind. Failing that, he said the first thing he could think of. "…to your place. Now."
"Now?"
He scanned for Larxene. She was going to show up any second.
"Right now," He said firmly.
Riku tied up Ether outside the hospital before ascending the four flights of stairs for what he hoped would be somewhat close to the last time. The staff nodded their heads when they saw his feet tracing their familiar path; and a few smiled when they saw the slight spring in his step.
Who knew, after all? Maybe someday they'd see him walking with the same old swagger. But that would be a long way off, no doubt. That was why no one was particularly cheerful, but their smiles were warm enough to make him feel somewhat warm as well, and when he reached the appropriate door, which was a number 114, he pushed it open with a smile on his face.
No matter what he found inside, the smiling was important. Right from the start, from that awful beginning. He hadn't walked inside, then; he was out of breath since he'd heard the news twenty blocks away and had taken off like a shot. The long white hallway had seemed like a trip through eternity, especially since no one could confirm or deny the terrible rumor that had reached his ears. He burst inside with a stricken look and immediately replaced it with reassurance, with comfort, with something that could be leaned on. Because the rumor had been true.
He hoped to god the one that he'd heard last week was, too.
Riku closed the door quietly behind him before turning around to face the long bed with its blue-striped sheets; and the figure who was lounging against the pillow and looking meditatively through the window at the sprawling cityscape unfolded there turned his head, and smiled.
His own smile slipped for a moment. He closed his eyes; allowing himself only the space of an eye blink to regain his composure.
So it hadn't been true. So he was still in bed. It was okay. It was only a matter of time. But they'd waited for so long, the two of them. To him there was no difference between being trapped in a hospital room and being trapped in a life where they couldn't walk down the street together. Soon enough they would.
Soon.
"Riku."
Riku opened his eyes, planning on apologizing, prepared to hitch the smile back up.
But he wasn't lying on the bed, when he looked again. He was in front of him. Standing. Grinning. It had been true.
Riku smiled through his tears.
"Here, wait there, let me grab you some ice. And that shoe is coming off, one way or another."
Axel stared into Roxas's eyes, making sure the message sank in, before crossing swiftly through the apartment.
The apartment.
Roxas groaned. When had a cab ride ever seemed so short? How the hell were they already there?
Here.
The den of the dragon.
The enemy camp.
The one place he should have just stayed away from.
And he hadn't.
And what the hell does one way or another mean?
Roxas sat down heavily on the sofa that graced the center of the room, calming himself even as his foot twitched and he winced. The numbness had departed; now it just hurt.
In the corner of his eye he saw Axel's shock of red hair bobbing up and down as he rummaged through what Roxas was prepared to guess was the kitchen, even though the space might as well have been an extension of the front room, judging from the stack of dishes on the low wood table, and the lack of appliances on the dull white counter.
Well, the reason was obvious, wasn't it? Axel had just moved in, after leaving the apartment Roxas now occupied. He knew from experience that sometimes unpacking wasn't the priority.
Still, the apartment had a thoroughly odd feeling to it. Roxas immediately noticed the signs of more than one person living there--the pairs of dishes, the double indentations in the couch, a shirt lying across a chair that wasn't long enough to fit Axel. Not a woman's shirt, though, Roxas noticed. Was it a roommate? Or had a lover forgotten it there? A male lover…
One way or another?
He swallowed. Sure, he was the one who made the suggestion. And he did say it in a way to deliberately mislead Axel, hoping that he would take it as further incitement to get the hell away from the bookstore. But there was no reason for it to be anything more than some first aid, right? He'd just met Sora.
Hell, he'd just met Roxas!
"Are you okay?"
Roxas jumped, clearing at least three inches off the seat. Axel had entered the room without him even noticing.
"Sorry; I didn't mean to surprise you. But I was worried about the rug."
Roxas forgot to be startled and stared at Axel. "What do you mean?" He asked warily. What the hell kind of remark was that?
"If you stared at it any longer, you'd burn a hole in it."
"You're kidding me." Roxas said the words flatly before thinking about them. "And you're supposed to be cool?"
Had his foot not been in the condition that it was--sending jets of pain up and down his leg, contributing to a slight buzz that was in his ears and the back of his neck at the same time--Roxas would have undoubtedly stopped himself in horror, remembering the man in the dark of the club who'd so easily stepped on him.
Axel smiled, a little too tight-lipped in Roxas's opinion.
"Is that what you think of me?"
"Not at all."
Roxas watched in interest as Axel took out a small case, and picked out a slim bottle of disinfectant with elegant fingers, rather than wonder at why his answer had seemed real and fake at the same time. "I thought you were getting ice."
"Yeah. But he must have done something with it, the nut."
He.
…A boyfriend? So Axel liked girls and guys?
But he could be jumping to conclusions. It could be a roommate.
"--it off."
What?
"I'm sorry, what did you say?"
"I said take it off. Unless you want me to." The redhead was gesturing impatiently.
"What?"
What was he getting at? Did he really think Roxas was going to--
"Sora. The shoe has to come off."
"Oh." Of course. "Sorry, yeah…" Roxas sneaked a look at Axel while he bent down and undid his laces--was it his imagination, or were those damned curious eyes of his flickering in amusement?
Who the hell did he think he was? If he thought Roxas was interested in him, he had another thing coming.
Other than the whole message thing.
But that was necessity.
It wasn't like he could have walked away.
And it wasn't like the goddamned redhead was attractive enough to think Roxas would be charmed with someone like him, anyway.
Roxas gasped suddenly. Axel had knelt down in front of him and upon touching his foot, sent a thrill of pain up his spine.
"Don't touch it!"
"Hold still," Axel snapped, apparently out of patience. Roxas held still out of shock. It was the first time he'd heard him talk like that. So even Axel wasn't calm all the time. It was an interesting thing to know.
His foot was striped down from the toes with lines of blood. He'd broken open the skin towards the top of his foot, and it was also swelling. Roxas mutely watched as Axel wiped away the blood with a wet cloth, then swabbed the wound itself with the disinfectant stuff from the bottle. The smell was strong and made him queasy, and it felt like he was setting his foot on fire.
"Well, it's not as bad as I thought. I mean Christ, Sora, I still don't get what the hell happened back there. It doesn't look like any of your toes are broken, but I don't really recommend walking on it quite yet," Axel said, taking a length of white gauze from the case. He started wrapping, quickly and efficiently.
Roxas was surprised. Under normal circumstances he'd never let someone do all this for him, of course, but Axel had done a remarkably good job.
Of course, why should he be surprised? He knew next to nothing about Axel.
"Okay. Now do you feel like telling me how this happened, anyway?" Axel sat cross-legged on the floor, not looking at Roxas as he threw the remaining gauze back in the case and snapped it shut with a loud click.
"I tripped." Roxas picked up his sock and shoved it inside his shoe. It was the pair he'd bought the other day; sleek in design with a white stripe down the side. He balanced it in his hand and cast a glance at the redhead.
His green eyes were hard.
Roxas hadn't expected him to believe it, he was obviously too sharp for that.
"Man's gotta try, right?" He asked, casting about for another excuse.
"It's okay. I understand your situation exactly." Axel nodded knowingly.
"You do?" What did he mean?
"For me, it was the girl's bathroom."
Roxas stared at him.
"Crazy, right? I know. But it's true. I did it for years."
Axel leaned forward, speaking loudly, almost excitedly, like he was sharing something great. Roxas tried to lean backwards, but he was up against the sofa cushion with nowhere to go.
"I have no idea what you're talking about."
"It's okay, you don't have to hide it. Because trust me, it won't last forever."
"No, I don't understand what you mean…"
"One day I walked right in. No qualms at all. Someday you will too."
"I will not!" Roxas said, indignant, in his haste leaning forward.
Axel blinked. His mouth twisted confusedly. "Really? Ya think? Why?"
"Because I'm not a pervert!"
A thick silence settled between them.
And then Axel started laughing. His laughter was clear. It was loud, without being annoying; it was also of the infectious sort, and if Roxas hadn't been so utterly disturbed he would have joined in. It was easy to tell, from that laugh, how people were attracted him.
"I'm not a pervert either, not if you're open-minded, anyway. I guess we could talk about that, but isn't that a little off topic?" Axel finally stopped, snickering once before rubbing his face and looking up.
"But you were the one who--"
"All I meant was to not worry. I used to have an irrational fear of walking into girl's bathrooms. Well, not entirely irrational--it all started this one day, when Larxene--well, it's not important. But don't worry, I understand that intense dislike of certain places. That's all I'm saying."
"I…"
"If you didn't want to walk into the bookstore, you should have said something. I'd have just called her over… You didn't have to go to that extreme."
Roxas gaped. Axel couldn't seriously think he had an irrational fear of bookstores…no one had a fear of bookstores, for crying out loud. And yet, that had been his emotion of the moment, hadn't it?
"…yeah. Er, yes. Thanks for your…help…consideration…philosophy?"
Axel laughed again."You're something else."
Roxas watched him, looking over the top of his freshly bandaged foot.
"Maybe you're right," he said quietly.
It wasn't that he didn't feel like giving Axel what he deserved anymore.
He just wasn't sure of what it was he deserved.
"Sora."
Sora. That was right. Messages. Axel being a horrible person. His job. The clipboard was at the apartment…
"I need to be going. Now." Roxas stood up, testing his foot gingerly. It would be fine. He couldn't really put the shoe back on without hurting his toes, but that was okay; his apartment couldn't be too far away from Axel's.
"You won't make it very far on that," Axel called suddenly when Roxas had his hand on the doorknob.
He turned, smoothing over the annoyance in his voice. "Yes I will. I don't live so far away that I'll collapse before I get there."
"Sora, you're breathing shallowly and if your face gets much paler then you'll scare people on the street. Just stay here, I'll take you home later. All right? I don't need your death on my conscience because you faint while trying to cross the street."
"I don't faint," Roxas said matter-of-factly. He could feel the scowl creeping across his face. "Besides, why do you care?"
"Why do I care?" Axel repeated. He crossed the room and was next to Roxas in three strides. Roxas had to tilt his head in order to meet his eyes; he only came up to the green collar of Axel's sweater.
"Like I said--you're interesting. More than that--lots of people are interesting, but they're still people that you'd never want to know about. You're different."
"You don't mean that," Roxas said, infuriated once more.
"You keep saying that, but you rescue paintings. You talk to pigeons. You kick walls, because you have a fear of bookstores, or maybe you just hate walls, I don't know. See? I don't know."
Roxas forced a smile across his face. Axel was blocking the door now, and he had no way of leaving the apartment short of shoving him out of the way. He was sturdier than the tall, thin man, but the hint of wiry muscles in his arms gave Roxas second thoughts. He might have been slender but there was also power behind his frame, and he didn't want to think about how mortifying it would be if he couldn't actually accomplish the task.
This left him at a stalemate.
They stared at each other--
Deep green eyes, flickering with a million things that Roxas found both distasteful and highly suspect, silently fought with brilliant blue irises, which were unwavering and contained a peculiar light that Axel couldn't help but be curious about, and fascinated with.
On the flipside, something in Axel's brain clicked with the light of the setting sun that was falling golden through the window, and if he could only remember, he'd have found something highly suspect in the blue gaze; and Roxas likewise would have admitted to himself--if he weren't Roxas, that is, or maybe just if he didn't have to be Sora--that the gleam of green held something very curious indeed.
Roxas did, however, know enough about books and movies to know that at a junction like this, anything could happen.
He also knew enough about kisses to clearly identify that Axel was not trying to strangle him as he bent down and swept Roxas's hair out of the way, but kiss him.
And he knew more than enough about failure to recognize it when the door was flung open from the other side, catching the side of Axel's head rather neatly, before their lips even touched.
Demyx stepped through the door, gaping at Axel, who was three feet away and clutching his head with his eyes scrunched shut.
Roxas didn't waste the opportunity, didn't check to see if anyone followed, didn't question Demyx's entrance or why he would be there.
He took off like a shot. The jarring ache as his foot slapped the concrete was nothing, nothing to him, as he ran with his heart beating entirely too fast, his breath much too shallow, and his face, so pale the previous moment, impossibly red.
a/n: So much rewriting. Ah, oh well. I'm still not really sure if I actually like this chapter! What do you guys think about it? Don't worry if the hospital thing seems random to you; that's been planned since...oh...the third chapter? Theories, anybody? Also, who else thinks parts of Axel's bathroom rant could have been metaphor? Any takers? Also, is Roxas gay, anyway? Lots of questions...anyway, I think I might have promised stalking in this chapter, but I underestimated my own transition. This is a more, turning-the-tables chapter, as we see Axel's interest in Roxas and Roxas's...crazy rantings in his head.
I think Xigbar should be in the next chapter. Anyway, comments, questions, concerns? I'd love to hear them. I think chapter thirteen will actually be written quickly.