Disclaimer: They aren't mine.

A/N: Roxas and Sora would like to caution against drug use. I would like to caution against putting things off until the very last second when you are scrambling to get shit done because it is almost Christmas. So much stuff to do before then. Freaking out rite nao.

There is lots of sexual content in this chapter. Just a warning.

--

Chapter Eight: Wings

Distance can happen in a way apart from miles and minutes. It can happen between you and an event, where you finally let go of the way that man held you down, or the way it felt in your stomach right before impact. Distance can also happen quietly, so subtle you wouldn't notice it if you didn't care, if you weren't already invested. So when Axel does the same things with Roxas—eats with him, talks with him—and is still hopelessly far away, it is something Roxas can't help but notice. Nothing has changed, but there is something distinctly different, like he'd ordered the wrong kind of onions, or used the wrong kind of spices. Axel just wasn't there anymore, while at the same time being in the exact same place he'd always been.

After Roxas slept through most of his Lorazepam daze, he'd stumbled his way to Little Vista where he figured he'd smoke the rest of the night away. Unfortunately for him, the pot was all packed up with most of the residents, burning away at Naminé's to finish up a collaborative Art Studio project, the medium being Heineken bottle caps. Kairi was the only one around, and she was ridiculously "drug free" at the moment. She did, however, make him fried rice and talk about Sora.

"Are he and Riku still together?"

And, being a girl, it seemed like this was the only thing Kairi wanted to talk about because "they are so cute, right?" until Roxas admitted, yes, they are, and thanks for the rice, but he'd have to return to his Lorazepam coma. He drank a glass of water at the dining commons before returning to his hovel, Demyx and Axel present and entertaining as always, except for the gaping distance. Roxas didn't know why Axel was acting like nothing happened, or like something happened and he'd moved effortlessly past it, so he shoved down two more Lorazepam and hoped he'd sleep the night through. It was like the world was conspiring against him. The plans of his downfall were highly effective, as he woke up on Thursday with a mouth drier than the Sahara and found himself with five minutes to get to his first of two Psych finals, neither of which he'd studied for. He fumbled through them, diagnosed himself the entire time, and after a supremely uneventful lunch and dinner with Demyx and Axel, he debated dropping out of school and off the face of the world.

The parties off campus were already raging; those finished with finals, like Roxas, determined to make studying next to impossible for anyone who had a final on Friday, like Axel and half of Little V. He'd been expecting Kairi again, but Hayner, parked on the couch and exhaling a massive rip off the ice bong just as Roxas stepped in the front door, could prove as useful. Anything to help him forget what a pathetic waste everything was becoming.

"Hey," Roxas said, slumping onto the couch beside Hayner. The laptop hooked up to speakers in front of them played a very obviously pirated copy of The Covenant, which Roxas thought would have been pretty bad if were not comically awesome.

Hayner glanced at him out of the corner of his eyes. "Hey." The other boy's fingers tapped against the bong, as if in debate, before passing it over. "Where's your boyfriend?"

Roxas exhaled a cloud of smoke up to the ceiling, closing his eyes. "He's not my boyfriend." Then, after a pause, "I'm straight."

Hayner snorted, taking another hit. "Whatever, man."

They watched the film in silence, routinely taking hits until Roxas didn't reach for the bong because he couldn't see anything outside of the tiny screen where the boys were walking out in speedos to swim practice. His breath caught, eyes glazed. Hayner's voice in his ear was smooth.

"How straight are you, Roxas?" A hand on his knee and sliding in between his legs, moving up and setting against him. "This straight?" Hayner's other hand turned his head away from the screen, and the mouth was on his mouth. Hayner's tongue ran along his bottom lip after the kiss, and after Hayner moved away, Roxas pulled the lip into his mouth, sucking. "This straight?"

I don't fucking care. Roxas moved first, curving his fingers around Hayner's neck and pulling him close, lips mashing against each other. He was so tired of complicated lust, where he couldn't just feel what the wanted to feel without being overrun with guilt and fifty million questions about how right something was or what someone would think or how it was wrong, so wrong. Because Hayner's tongue in his mouth felt good. Right, wrong… whatever. I don't care. I don't care. Hayner's hand was heavy on his chest, pushing him into the couch, and his own hand felt like dead weight on the back of the other boy's neck. All his movements felt jerky, delayed under the sluggish tendrils of pretty decent weed. Hayner trailed a hand down his shirt, a stroke Roxas barely felt, and slid his hand up, smoothing over his chest. It hardly felt like anything at all, but he was breathing open-mouthed as Hayner's lips worked at his neck.

"How straight, Roxas?" His shirt was pushed up, Hayner's tongue flicking at his right nipple, teasing, Hayner's hand cupping his erection through his jeans.

"Fuck you," Roxas exhaled, grinding his hips up. A tongue was in his mouth again—sloppy, heated—and Hayner was hard at his hip, pressing insistently. A wave of thought threatened at the edges of his perception, and he had to shout in his head, I DON'T CARE, fingers moving fiercely against the other boy's skin, searching out solace. His hands skimmed low, dipping beneath the band of Hayner's jeans, and the other boy grunted into his mouth, hands suddenly on his shoulders, pushing him down off the couch and onto his knees.

"I won't tell if you won't." Hayner undoing his fly and inching his pants and boxers down just enough for his dick to slide out, semi-erect and twitching under Roxas' breath. Roxas saw his own chest heaving, felt like he was watching this happen in the third row of a theatre in his mind. Hayner began stroking his cock, inches from Roxas' face. His cheeks burned.

It wouldn't be the first, not after the time with Riku, where he'd done it out of what he thought was reciprocal courtesy. Riku had talked him through, stroking the back of his neck with callused fingers. He'd told him how Sora did it, how he should suck less and use his hands more, and that's it, right there, keep going. Hayner was different, bucking into his mouth erratically, hand firm in his hair. What were you expecting? Flowers? His hands, originally placed on Hayner's knees, had begun stroking, so he removed them and let them dangle at his sides. His fingers twitched, seeking skin. Dinner and a movie? Both of the other boy's hands were in his hair now, gripping, holding him steady while Hayner pumped in and out of his mouth. That stuff doesn't exist anymore. You don't even want that.

"Swallow it, baby." That was the only warning, as if he'd have a choice as Hayner pushed into the back of Roxas' throat and shot, hot and sporadic. If Roxas tried to swallow, he'd gag, so he let it trickle down, oddly reminded of the dentist as Hayner's come fell down his throat, cock still pushing deeper in his mouth. The other boy pushed him back at the shoulders, groaning as his dick slid out from between Roxas' lips, slick with spit and come. Roxas leaned back, mind completely blank. Hayner, eyes closed and breathing heavy, leaned forward and lifted him under arms, setting Roxas in his lap. "My room." Hayner's hand against him, still erect. "Now."

His mind stayed wonderfully blank as he came in Hayner's mouth one, twice, and again just before dawn. He fell asleep hoping Hayner had a bong on the other side of his bed so they could wake and bake. Roxas was not interested in ramifications or meanings or anything at all really, except how Hayner talked in his sleep and had thick scars on his forearms that Roxas had never noticed before.

--

"Are you fucking kidding me?" It was loud in his ear, and then he was being dragged from the bed and pulled toward the door. "And clothes would be good." Then Zexion was making him step through his briefs so he could pull them up, and he was pretty sure that his dick pushed against Zexion's shoulder, and god couldn't he just have one hit off the bong Hayner was lighting up? But Zexion was having none of it, making him step into his jeans and tugging them up, shoving his discarded shirt at him before dragging him out the door, offering up some choice words for Hayner on their way out. Roxas, still half asleep, only tuned in when he heard Sora's name.

"…cell and I, who have only been your roommate for two years, had no idea whatsoever who he was. So I hung up, and he called back, and… are you listening, or am I wasting my breath?" The sun was just beginning to color the sky, and the ocean sounded closer than Roxas thought it should.

"What day is it?"

Zexion looked at him, abruptly horrified. "You mean to tell me that you have been getting off with that sleazeball for days? You had finals, Roxas. Finals!"

"Shouting," Roxas said, wincing. "I took my finals, then I went to Vista. We smoked."

"Smoked each other's poles. Come on, Rox. You were in his bed."

Roxas paused. "I was sleeping."

"YOU WERE NAKED."

"…Coincidence," Roxas shrugged. How much do you hate yourself right now?

Zexion squinted at him. "Are you being serious, or have you suffered head trauma?"

"We didn't have sex." We had oral. "Meaningless" oral. Whatever that means.

Zexion shook his head, disgruntled, and dragged him along quicker toward the dorms. "You need sleep."

"I'm not tired."

"Well I need sleep. Someone's friend kept calling someone's cellphone that they were too hellbent on achieving orgasm to remember to take with them." He glared at Roxas, marching him up the stairs. "I told you this part."

"Sora called?"

Zexion made a noise of outrage and shoved him in their room. "Yes, he called, and after the eighth time I answered because some people like to study without the incessant ringing of conveniently forgotten cellphones. I didn't know who he was, he eventually told me, he wondered where you were, I didn't know, then he freaked the fuck out. So I went looking for you, and found you naked in Hayner's bed. Everything checking out?"

Roxas crawled into his bed and curled up on his side. "Where's my phone?"

"Go to sleep." Roxas growled and dragged himself back to his feet. Zexion promptly pushed him back in. "He is fine, you are fine, and we are all going to be asleep at this unholy hour."

"I AM GOING TO CALL HIM."

Zexion thought about saying something else, decided the invisible fireballs shooting out of Roxas' pretty eyes were not things he wanted to dodge at five in the morning. He shrugged and climbed into his bed. "You, dear roommate, are on an obscene amount of crack." A pause, then, "CRACK."

Roxas mumbled under his breath and retrieved his cell from the desk. Sora answered after the third ring.

"…Nffghgfh."

"Sorry."

"Where were you? I was so fucking worried, man."

"I was just out. I… I need to come home." Before my life implodes.

"Tomorrow. Come early."

Roxas felt very small, or like he was stuck at that back of some place dark, a tiny pinprick of life so far ahead that it didn't seem possible to reach. "I need you, Sora."

A long pause, a hopeless sigh. "Tomorrow."

--

"I am green and fuzzy. Don't you want to eat me?" Zexion, almost… singing? Except it was more like speaking with emotion. "I taste like acidic piss and bile, but Roxas loves me." Roxas felt the rough fuzz of a kiwi pressed against his cheek in what was supposed to be an alluring manner. "So juicy."

"Get that shit off my face."

"Testy, I see." A load of kiwis were dumped unceremoniously on his chest. "I, who brought you this vast treasure from… forty-five feet away, am met with such testiness? I should cut your hands off."

Roxas cracked his eyes open, looking up to see if Zexion was… yes. Yes, he was high. "Pothead."

"Cocksucker."

Roxas, who had bit in to a kiwi, choked. "He told you?"

"Hayner's big mouth does more than give excellent head, not that I've ever had such sleazy delicacies. He was telling tales of your conquest over lunch."

Roxas, eating the insides of a kiwi, paused. "…Lunch?"

"It's five o'clock. You slept all day, Mr. I'm Not Tired, Let Me Have Weepy Emo Convos With Some Guy I Kept a Secret From My Roommate of Two Years." Roxas gaped at Zexion, slightly awed. "Not a word, thanks. I'm off form this afternoon. I read Middlemarch in one night, spent valuable stocks of energy looking for you, then took a three hour final from hell. My brain needs lubrication in the form of massive quantities of pot I will soon partake of at Vista."

"When are we going?" Roxas asked, splitting open his third kiwi.

"We are going nowhere. You are not in the right mental landscape to subject yourself to the awaiting horrors."

"Weed and alcohol."

"Horrors, yes."

Roxas looked Zexion square in the eyes. "I'm going."

Zexion looked at him like he had five noses or seven eyes or some really specific deformity. "Why? Aren't you regretting your little evening of indecent exposure? A.K.A., aren't you being Roxas?"

Roxas sucked thoughtfully at the last kiwi, and he noticed Zexion's eyes were on his mouth. Hmmm. "I regret," lick, slow, and pressing the fruit to his lips, "nothing."

Zexion was unfazed. "You might want to buy that thing dinner first, and you should stop bullshitting me. You are feeling regret."

Roxas grinned, licked the juice off his lips. "No. I'm not. I'm being healthy and fucking normal for once." Liar. Zexion didn't have a suitable comeback. Casual sex is not a crime, Roxas remembered. Axel had casual sex all the time. Fuck Axel.

Zexion's mouth quirked, then he shrugged. "Well, let's go, then. I'll babysit your retarded ass."

Roxas, throwing clothes on, rolled his eyes. He wanted to get drunk, so he was going to get fucking drunk. One more night. I just have to make it through one more night.

--

Whiskey sours. The kids were starting to pour into Little Vista, and Zexion, the clever bastard, had him sipping down whiskey sours. The deal was that he could drink only what Zexion brought him, and only when he decided. While Zexion was on his fourth vodka and RedBull, Roxas was on his third whiskey sour. Because he hated whiskey, and Zexion knew this. Motherfucker. He smiled wryly at his roommate bent over a Scrabble board with Olette, rambling madly about how, yes, that was a word; he was an English major and knew these sorts of things. A variety of board games were kept on hand at Little V, often used in the mostly sober hours of the party before things really got going and stuff like pissing in the toilet properly began to prove difficult, much less going for the triple-word-score. Roxas glumly watched the game of Scrabble unfold, sipping on the cursed whiskey, wincing at the taste.

Roxas' mind, still wonderfully blank, hummed eagerly as Pence brought out the bong. Zexion took one look at his lit up face and raised a finger.

"No."

Roxas scowled as Zexion followed Pence and assorted other partying denizens into the back, and Roxas made small talk with Tidus, the other blonde predictably high on some more exotic drug that Little V didn't keep on hand. Of course, within the minute that Zexion moved to the backyard for a smoking session, Demyx and Axel walked in through the front door, each boy offering a nod and a smile at Roxas. Shit. He began to sip his disgusting whiskey with greater determination. Drunk. We are getting drunk and we are getting it now.

Demyx and Axel disappeared into the kitchen and emerged with their respective drinks; Demyx with two bottles of Heineken with missing caps, and Axel with a bottle of tequila and a shot glass. Never seen him drink tequila. Gross. A group of kids Roxas thought looked like freshman started a drinking game with Axel, and he tried hard not to feel left out, doing his best to continue talking with an increasingly incoherent Tidus. Axel took shot after shot, and Roxas couldn't help but think that he looked happier, way happier than Roxas ever remembered him looking while they were drinking together.

Hate yourself. The whiskey burned in his throat. Just hate yourself. He'll probably fuck one of those freshman kids later. The cute blonde on the end. He looks just like you. Another gulp, all fire down his throat. But better. Like you, but better. Axel wasn't looking his direction at all, Demyx on the phone with his girlfriend. Everyone has someone. I have gross whiskey and Zexion as my babysitter. FUCK. He looked sadly at the rest of his whiskey sour and set it aside. Fuck it. We'll go when Zexion gets back. Then he looked up again toward where Axel sat, and found the other boy staring at him, the crowd of freshman gone.

It seemed like he'd never noticed the color of Axel's eyes. He had, but it seemed like this was the first time he felt like he fully appreciated them. Axel's gaze was intense, like it could set you on fire. Hypnotizing, compelling, it made him feel wanted, like he was the only thing in the room. Demyx was leaned over, saying something to Axel, but Axel was waving him off, not interested. Roxas swallowed hard and tore his eyes away, staring at his discarded whiskey sour and wondering whether or not he could finish it. Buzzed, but not drunk. God, I need to get the fuck out of here.

He saw Axel rise to his feet out of the corner of his eyes, and his attention snapped back to the redhead. Axel was coming toward him. Wordlessly, Axel took him by the hand and led him out the door. Demyx looked pissed as they passed him, and Roxas realized he was drunker than he felt. Maybe we're going to smoke. Maybe things can be normal again. Axel smelled like alcohol, the burn of tequila coming off him heavy as the night breeze blew into Roxas' face. They were headed down the beach access stairs, and everything felt so familiar.

At least, it was familiar up until the point where they hit the sand and Axel pushed him to the side of the stairs, into the dark, and put his mouth on Roxas' neck. Fevered presses of Axel's lips against him, everything smelling like alcohol, and his breath was ragged out of his mouth as Axel's hands slid up his back, under his shirt. They were quiet, Axel's mouth working down to his collarbone, the blonde's head rolled back, eyes on the stars. Roxas' heart, pounding away in his chest, was connected by a fine string to the pit of his stomach, twinging as Axel's fingers brushed lower. Axel's hair felt softer than it looked, smelled sweet past the tequila, and his brain was screaming at him. Yes. More. Yes. MORE. YES.

Axel's mouth back at his neck, by his ear, then back to his collarbone, then down, his shirt lifted up, right above the button of his jeans, and then. Oh fuck. He swayed as Axel's hands unzipped his jeans, fingers inching his briefs down. Axel placed another kiss right at the dip in his skin below his hips, and desire unfurled like a whip, burning, in his stomach. The spark of it startled him. I want this. But…

"No." His hands held Axel's wrists, his briefs barely covering him, his erection just below the band already halfway down. Because Axel had kissed him everywhere, was going to kissing him everywhere, except the mouth. He wouldn't kiss him on the mouth.

Axel spoke to his navel, hands motionless in Roxas' fingers. "I thought you wanted this."

I do. "I thought you didn't."

They were motionless for a long minute, and Roxas wished Axel would just say all the right words, would say the things he wanted to hear so this could happen. But Axel wouldn't, and Roxas knew he didn't want to hear them anyway. He dropped Axel's wrists and zipped up his jeans as he walked away, the wind cool on his cheeks.

He was in his room packing when Zexion stumbled in. Roxas zipped up his backpack before his roommate could talk and grabbed the other boy in a hug.

"Have a good break." He moved passed Zexion and into the hall, leaving the other boy speechless in the center of their room. He'd go home early. He'd go to Sora's and hold him and scream until there was nothing left in his lungs. Sora. Sora. Sora. His mind chanted his best friend's name as he drove. He thought about lots of things—razors, pills, cold steel—and only Sora's name would push them out of his mind. His hands trembled against the wheel and he kept his eyes on the odometer, counting down the miles.

--

It was two in the morning as he knocked at Sora's front door for the second time. Should've called. He's not expecting me. Maybe I should try Riku's. He knocked again, and this time the door opened under his fist revealing Riku, shirtless, clad only in boxers. Oh, fuck.

"Sorry. I'll… I'll just go." He turned to leave, but Riku's hand grabbed at his shoulder, pulling him into a hug.

"Don't be stupid."

Riku smelled like sex. "You guys are… busy. Sleeping." He felt dim as Riku walked him up the stairs, hand on the small of his back.

"His parents are on that anniversary vacation thing." The lilt in Riku's voice, lightly dazed, told Roxas that Riku was high. "We were bored."

Sora sat up in his bed as Roxas came in. The entire room smelled warm and smelled like sex and chemicals, and Roxas wanted to run. Sora got to his feet with movements like a child's, completely naked, and pulled Roxas into a hug. When Sora spoke his voice dripped with love; tired, sated.

"You're early," he said, voice sloppy and barely covering the words. His arms around Roxas' neck were light, fingers plucking at the tips of his hair. Roxas didn't know what to say, could feel Sora erect and pushing against him. He's so high. He doesn't know. Oh, fuck.

And then they were kissing. Riku, standing in the doorway watching, and they were kissing. His hands at Sora's waist, bare skin soft under his fingers, and Sora's tongue swirling in his mouth. Riku came up to them, and Roxas pulled away, a dangle of spit extending from Sora's mouth to his. The world was muted. Riku turned Sora's face at the chin and drew him into a kiss. Roxas swallowed Sora's spit in his mouth and wondered at how he had never seen them kiss this close before except in his head. All of his clothes felt too tight as he glimpsed their tongues each time Riku shifted his head. Oh my god. Then Riku broke the kiss and turned his eyes toward Roxas, Sora's half-closed eyes observing them. Then Riku kissed him.

His eyes closed briefly, relishing, then fluttered open and moved to Sora's face. Roxas didn't know what he expected; maybe shock, maybe hurt, but he certainly did not expect a calm curiosity. Curiosity and a jealous twinkle in his best friend's eyes. Roxas pushed Riku away and fled, thundering down the stairs.

What the fuck? What the fuck? He didn't want to go home. They would find him at home. He drove with practiced ease to the Crest, the same spot the three of them sat at in the back of Riku's Mercedes and talked the night away. The same spot Riku laid him out on, made him come on. What the fuck? Roxas turned his car off and pressed the palms of his hands into his eyes. Nothing made sense anymore. He thought he loved Riku. But maybe he loved Sora? And what the fuck about Axel? Maybe… maybe there is no such thing as love. Maybe it's just sex and the lies we tell ourselves. He didn't have any cigarettes, didn't have any tears to cry. He felt empty, drained of everything. Just stop beating. There's no point. Just stop. He did the only thing left to do. He slept.

--

Riku was lying on the hood of his car, face turned toward the sky, when Roxas woke up. He debated slamming on the horn just to scare the shit out of him, but decided against it. He got out of the car and climbed up on the hood next to Riku, laying back.

"Cigs?" Riku asked.

"I'm out."

"Shit."

"Yeah."

It was cool for March, the sound of the freeway faint below them. It took Roxas a moment to realize something was missing. The tension? I'm not even trying to "accidentally" brush up against him.

"We shouldn't have," Riku said, eyes on the sky.

"Yeah," Roxas said.

"I'm in love with you." Riku sat up and stared down at Roxas, blocking the sun.

Roxas waited for the rush of elation, for the joy. He felt nothing. "No, you aren't,"

Riku bit his lip, thinking. "Yes. Yes, I am."

Roxas sat up, blinking away the sun. "You're confused."

Riku, staring at his hands. "Sora said you're in love with me."

Roxas was silent for a moment, then he started laughing. Riku stared at him, brow furrowed. "Sorry," giggle, giggle. "This is… unbelievable." He laughed hard, and Riku petted him lightly on the hair. "Love doesn't exist, man."

"Yes, it does."

"…Okay. Whatever. Maybe. I don't know. I'm in love with you, too, then." Roxas laid back down, his head in Riku's lap.

Riku was silent, stroking his hair. Then, "And Sora."

"…And Sora." Roxas wanted a cigarette or some breakfast or fourteen hours of dreamless sleep.

A pause, then, "I told him, you know."

"What? I thought you said I told him."

"Not Christmas. The first time. Here. I told him."

Roxas' blood froze up momentarily. "What?"

"I couldn't lie to him, man. I love him." Oh shit. He never showed any signs of knowing. "Funny thing is, he wasn't really mad. He was sad." Riku's fingers against his cheek, chasing away an insect. "He beat himself up pretty bad, saying he wasn't good enough for you, and what the fuck did I have that he couldn't give you. I dunno." The sun got brighter and both of them squinted. "I kinda hated you after that, because it was obvious he was in love with you. Every time we fuck, he gets so hard when I talk about you. He wants you so bad, Rox." Riku laughed, bitter. "If I ever need to get off, all I have to do is mention your fucking name, and he's all over my nuts."

"He's my best friend."

"So? He's mine, too. I don't have that freaky E.T. shit you guys got going on, but he's my best friend, too." Riku smiled, knee jostling up under the blonde. "You're the alternate."

"Yay," Roxas said lamely. "And we're all… fucking in love with each other."

"Maybe." It was a long time before Riku spoke again, the sun high overhead. "We are so fucked." Roxas chuckled. "But I don't really care. As long as I have you both. I don't care." Riku's hand in his hair felt nice. "You want to shoot some H?"

"Yes."

--

There had been elaborate plans to drive to Tijuana over Spring Break, and they had been saving up for months, but what with their recent conclusions, that plan had gone to shit. So the rest of Saturday, Sora at work, Roxas sat in Riku's room and shot heroin for the first time. It felt good, but not as good as the waffles Riku made his chef cook afterward. They kissed briefly, but mostly they just held each other and tried hard not to think.

Sunday morning, waking up in Riku's bed, both of their clothes still on, Roxas left and headed for Sora's. Sora, awake and shooting hoops in his back yard, brought out a sack that they spent the rest of the day smoking. They kissed a lot, and Sora mentioned how cute Roxas would look as he orgasmed. Roxas, turned on and taking a hit, only smiled.

Monday morning, waking up in Sora's bed, most of their clothes off, Roxas left and headed for home. His mom scolded him for staying out all weekend without seeing her and introduced him to Mitch, who ate his Cinnamon Toast Crunch, the motherfucker. His mother and the new guy went out, and Roxas took a shower and fell asleep in his own bed. He woke up to the feeling of weight added to his mattress, and Sora was sitting on the edge, holding up a new sack of pot. Riku was on his laptop, bitching about how his software was outdated, and didn't he know that LimeWire would get his ass lawsuited. They rolled a couple blunts and smoked in his back yard.

Tuesday morning, recycle, rinse, repeat.

Wednesday morning, recycle, rinse, repeat.

Thursday morning Sora woke up sandwiched between Riku and Roxas on the bed and declared they should go to Disneyland. Roxas said he knew where they could pick up some tabs of acid. Most of the trip was a blur, though Roxas remembered riding Space Mountain five times in a row, the fifth time during which Riku gave Sora handjob in the car ahead of Roxas'. A sixth time was suggested, and a second handjob, Sora offering one to Roxas. He kissed Sora on the mouth, much to the alarm of several mothers with small children behind them, and declined.

Friday morning they smoked out again, and Roxas felt like a pimp as he watched Riku work over Sora on the grass. Sora's pants down around his knees and his mouth open, emitting the hottest sounds Roxas had ever heard, Riku's head bobbing up and down, one hand pressed up to Sora's chest and stroking.

Saturday afternoon they were at Sora's, smoking and swimming.

"We should just do it," Riku said, watching as Sora and Roxas raced in the pool. Sora won for the third consecutive time.

"What?" Roxas, out of breath, swimming to where Riku sat, propping his elbows up on the edge of the pool.

"A threesome." Sora swam up behind Roxas, nestled his chin into the curve between Roxas' neck and shoulder.

"I'm down," Sora said, arms wrapping around Roxas' torso.

"Where?" Roxas asked

"My place," Riku said, exhaling a cloud of smoke. Sora climbed out of the pool, taking a hit off the pipe.

Roxas peered up at Sora, the sunlight illuminating each droplet that clung, sliding, to his body. He saw Riku staring at Sora in the same way. "Yeah." The two boys looked at him, smiling. "Let's do it."

Sunday morning found Roxas waking up in Riku's dark room, naked. Riku was smoking a cigarette, and a glass of orange juice was clutched in Sora's hands. For a moment Roxas wasn't sure, but he knew they hadn't. He'd watched Sora and Riku have sex, and then Sora made out with him while Riku gave him a blowjob. It didn't count. Fuck.

"We need to get off drugs," Riku said, putting out his cigarette in an ashtray and passing the pack over to Roxas. Sora started crying.

Roxas lit the cigarette, a Camel, with shaking hands. Sora cried harder and Riku left the room. "I'm so fucking… I'm so confused, Sora." Roxas wanted to hold him, he wanted to take his best friend into his arms and hold him, but he couldn't. There was too much lust tied up into everything. They couldn't touch each other, not now.

"Don't go back," Sora pleaded, wiping at his eyes. "I don't want you to go back." Roxas put his cigarette out, set the ashtray on the floor, and turned to Sora. "Stay. We'll get clean together, all three of us."

Roxas felt like his heart was breaking. "I love you, Sora. I can't stay."

"You can! Just stay with me!" More tears, all of them fierce.

"No." Roxas got up, left half of his heart on the bed, shoved on his clothes, and made his way to the front doors. Riku was waiting with his keys.

"He broke up with me, Rox. You were still out, and he woke up and said he was breaking up with me. He said you're not leaving, so you better get the fuck out now while he's still crying."

"Shit." He grabbed his keys out of Riku's hand and hurried out the door. Shit shit shit. Sora got what he wanted. If he wanted Roxas to stay, if he really wanted him to stay, then Roxas would stay. He wouldn't be able to leave, wouldn't want to anymore. "Shit." His keys did the thing where they refused to turn in the door, and he heard Sora approaching.

"You were going to leave without saying goodbye, Roxie?" He sounded hurt, betrayed.

"I can't stay, Sora. I have school." Sora was dressed only in boxer briefs and a bright blue hoodie. He looked adorable and Roxas felt like killing himself. "I'm so sorry. I love you."

Sora unzipped the hoodie slowly and put it around Roxas, making the blonde put his arms through, then zipping it up, hand coming to rest on Roxas' collarbone. Kiss him. "I'm sorry. We shouldn't have." Kiss him. "I'll see you when you get back." Kiss him, hug him, fucking just touch him. Just touch him.

Roxas balled his fists and turned back to his car, twisting the key viciously until the door opened. He drove away and didn't look back.

--

The sun was setting as Roxas walked to his dorm. He decided against heading for the bluffs; instead he went straight for his room. It was dark inside, Zexion not back from wherever it was he lived when he wasn't at school. I should find out sometime. Stop being such a shitty roommate. He wondered if he should feel alarmed. He'd just had the most impossible week of his life, but he felt… happy? No, that's not right. But it was like Riku said, "As long as I have you both." It wasn't only him feeling like nothing was right and like he was a slut or indifferent or couldn't figure out what love was supposed to mean. People fall in love with their best friends all the time. It's okay. And people fall in love with their best friends' boyfriends all the time. He paused, frowned, and punched his pillow. Okay, so maybe not at the same time. His cell went off. One new text message.

Nice hoodie.

From Axel. Close the phone and put it away. Don't talk to him. But why? He didn't have to hide from anything anymore. He knew. He was fucked. Everything else was just noise. He texted back, "Stalker. It's Sora's." The response was almost instantaneous:

That's cute.

Roxas smiled and stuck the phone under his pillow. Maybe the idea was cute, but the situation, the reality of it, wasn't cute at all. It was terrifying. The phone went off again and Roxas groaned. Wasn't Axel mad at him?

How was your break?

Roxas debated how he should answer. I spent the entire week baked out of my fucking skull? I almost had a threeway with my best friend and his boyfriend, both of whom I am in stupid love with? I went to Disneyland? Roxas bit his lip and responded, "Complicated." A few minutes went by, and he figured Axel had probably gone out; it was Sunday, after all. Then the phone went off again.

Can we hang out now?

There was a knock at his door as he read the text. Roxas bit back a small smile and pulled the door open. Of course, Axel, on the other side, eyes calling up the same nervous tickle in Roxas. They said nothing, Roxas turning his phone over and over in his hands, Axel studying him. When Axel moved, slowly, it was to pull the hood up and over Roxas' head, the bright blue framing his face.

Axel smiled around the words he spoke. "How does pizza sound?"