Disclaimer: They aren't mine.

A/N: LOL? No, but for real: new fanart, including two gorgeous pieces by ironyofalostkeyword, a double dose of adorable by happyvoicescry, and another Roxas and Axel by pouikee/uncanadian that is so fucking beautiful… words escape me. All at dA, links up on the profile. Sorry about the month long break. Shit was crazy; I got it sorted. Reviewers new and old: you are all awesome. Next time you review, I will tell you how much. Promise.

This chapter will make your eyes bleed. Also: sexual content through the roof. Enjoy.

--

Chapter 10: Thievery

Compound interest. A formula for change over time, and maybe your eighth grade shop teacher said you could be a millionaire at forty if you play your cards right. The idea is patience, and one day you wake up a million dollars richer. Patience, slow change over time, and one day you wake up a little taller, a little wiser. One day you wake up with a handful of neuroses, carefully cultivated over time. Compound interest, a bunch of bad habits. You don't even notice the slow decline, a road that takes you down by the merest of fractions, acceleration undetectable by the human eye. Then you're hitting a turn going 80 miles per hour, steering wheel like churning setting concrete. And you're fucked.

The first time Axel asked Roxas to come out with him on a "date," he said it was for moral support. Friday, coming back from a particularly gruesome dining commons dinner of chicken cacciatore, the sky purpling over like the aftermath of violence, and Axel was nervous, hands jammed into the pockets of his jeans. Roxas knew something was up. They'd been cool. The new semester was tough on the older boy, twenty units of upper division History classes that had Roxas only seeing him at meal times and around campus. A drink at Vista. An errant nudge walking between classes. They were cool, though. Despite whatever lower inclinations Roxas felt, they were cool. Friend Zone cool.

"Hey," Roxas said, walking in step next to the redhead.

"Hmm?"

"…You're going out tonight?" Because, like clockwork, Axel still went out every weekend. It was never an idea that could sit well with Roxas. Even if he couldn't have him, he knew that, as a friend, it's still not the kind of behavior you'd want a friend engaging in. He didn't like the way Riku shot heroin. He didn't like the way Sora was always stoned, showing up for work late all the time lately. He didn't like the way Axel fucked around. Strangers or no strangers, it was still weird. Wrong.

"Yeah," Axel said, slowing before they walked up the dorm stairs, detouring over to the concrete bench Roxas liked to smoke on. Roxas pulled out a new pack of Parliaments, handing them over for Axel to pack. It was a funny quirk of the redhead's that gave Roxas a tiny jolt of joy every time Axel reached out for a new pack. Something about the way the pack hit against the flat of the boy's palm, a sharp repetitive slapping sound; frenzied, quick. Maybe that's how he jacks off. Turning over a lucky in the pack, Axel spoke again. "…Actually, I have a favor to ask."

Roxas accepted the cigarette Axel lit, pressing it quickly to his lips to stop something stupid from coming out. A favor?

"I was just… thinking." Axel's hands shook lightly as he smoked, and Roxas felt the volume of the world turn down. "Like, maybe, if you, y'know, wanted to, you could come with me tonight."

And suck some guy's dick with you? What the fuck? Roxas felt his cheeks warm, brows lowering in anger. "Are you serious?"

"I don't mean… y'know. You wouldn't have to do anything. It would be cool if you waited for me, though. So I don't hang around..." Inhale, exhale. "…wearing out my welcome. Moral support. Shit like that." Axel's forced nonchalance had the effect of Roxas having no idea what the hell the other boy was suggesting.

"Like wait in the car?" While you get fucked?

"Yeah. Or whatever." Axel wouldn't meet his eyes.

The suggestion was easily one of the most nauseating things Roxas had ever heard. Why would he even ask me this? What the hell am I going to do while he's busy getting fucked? Axel, however, didn't appear to see a problem with the proposition, as if it were the most natural thing in the world for Roxas to do, waiting around for Axel to finish fucking some guy. Or guys, god knows. Fucking slut. He sat, smoking furiously next to the redhead, anger rising as he found the idea more and more erotic. Fucking slut. He probably likes it. He probably wants me to like it. Because, with Sora out of commission for the foreseeable future, Roxas had no one to talk with in any valid way. His thoughts were increasingly ridiculous, sexually charged and bleeding out with sullen bitterness. He had a lot to be bitter about, didn't he? His defective personality, or something, that made him good enough to fuck, but not good enough to love, to be with.

"Yeah," Roxas said suddenly, and Axel flinched. "I'll come."

"Really?" Except it didn't sound like a question.

"Yeah. I'll bring some homework or something." Roxas smoked his cigarette right to the filter before tossing the stub to the floor and rising to climb the stairs, leaving Axel sitting on the bench alone.

--

The drive to the bar, Axel speeding on surface streets, was short and chaotic, rock music blistering over the speakers so loud that Roxas couldn't even decipher the melody. They pulled up to the same dark blue bar Roxas remembered Axel taking him to, an unlit sign emblazoned with a steel "Q's," the night he admitted his weekend activities. The bouncer hardly glanced in Roxas' direction as they stepped in the back entrance. Axel quickly scouted out a table on the side, disappearing and reappearing with a glass of something dark and disgusting for Roxas. They'd hardly been seated for five minutes, Roxas' underage nerves jangling in his arms while he wondered why Axel wasn't talking at all, when Axel grinned maniacally and rose from his seat.

The redhead swaggered up to a towering man dressed in nondescript blacks, a flame of auburn hair the only revealing feature Roxas could see from his seat. The contact between the two was immediate, the man grabbing Axel by the hips and pressing them together in a way that made Roxas' heart pound. Fucking slut. Slut slut slut. He frowned at the surge of desire he felt, bringing the drink to his mouth and taking a burning swallow. Why did I agree to this? Am I fucking retarded? He stole glances at Axel and the man from time to time, stomach burning away with each touch the man stroked up Axel's back. I'm definitely better looking than that guy. Definitely. He bit his bottom lip hard and tipped the glass up, finishing the last of it. I wonder how big his dick is.

"Rox." Axel's voice at his shoulder made him jump a little. "You okay drive?"

"Uh, I guess."

Axel tossed him the keys to the truck. "Follow us. Keep it on the down low, ok?" Axel didn't wait for the affirmative before walking out the door, the huge guy already disappeared into the night. Roxas rose to his feet hastily, hurrying out the door. He didn't have the sense of mind to be annoyed or indignant, his mind full of irrational thoughts like, Oh, fuck, he's going to get raped. Oh, fuck, I'm going to lose him and he's going to be stranded there. Oh, fuck. He was clearly drunker than he felt, and it took him three jumps to get into the driver's seat of Axel's truck. He stupidly tried to put the truck in reverse and instead found himself careening forward, slamming on the brakes before hitting the car parked in front of him. This is probably the worst idea ever. A red corvette gunned it down the street beside him, Axel's eyes on him in the passenger seat, and Roxas swore, navigating himself out of the parallel parking space before tailing the corvette.

The drive was uneventful aside from how he repeatedly hit the wipers instead of the turn signal, and he found himself parked across from an average cookie-cutter house on an average suburban street, the red corvette like a sore thumb parked in a driveway. His Social Psych text sat open in front of him, words illuminated in the streetlight since Roxas thought turning the overhead light on might be too conspicuous… not that he could actually focus enough to read, anyway. He'd read a paragraph on interpersonal communication over and over again, his mind stuck on hopeless repeat. He's having sex right now. Right now, Axel is having sex with that huge fucking guy. They'd been inside for nearly an hour, and Roxas wondered how long it would take. How many times will he come? Will they cuddle afterward? Smoke? Drink? Shower? Are they using a condom? His hands shook against his thighs, and he wondered for the millionth time why he'd decided to come.

When his phone rang at 9:01pm, Roxas felt like his arms were made of lead, an infinity between the time he connected to the call and raised the phone to his ear.

"Hey, Sora."

"…What's wrong?"

"Nothing."

"Liar."

"…"

"Don't be like that, Roxie."

Roxas closed his eyes, squeezing them tight. "I'm just angry or something, man."

"…When are you coming home?"

"Sora, you ask me this every single night."

"So?"

"Midterms are in four weeks. I'm coming home that weekend."

"…Can't you come tonight?"

Why, so we can fuck? So you can suck me off? I love you. Why are we doing this? "No. I'm doing a favor for that Axel guy."

"You like him, huh." It wasn't a question.

"We're just friends," Roxas said, voice toneless.

"You can't bullshit a bullshitter, Rox."

"You're not a bullshitter, Sora."

"Whatev, man, I'm faded and you're being retarded."

"…Okay, man. Whatever."

"Why are you being like this?"

"Like what, Sora?" His voice rose, and despite the way he knew this wasn't about Sora, he was gearing up to go off on him. "Can't you just get back with Riku already? You're being pathetic. You're like a pothead now, man. It's gross."

"…I don't want him."

"YOU'RE KILLING YOURSELF. YOU NEED HIM."

"I only need you." Roxas didn't like the way Sora wouldn't get angry, was too fucked up to understand that Roxas was yelling at him.

"Well, what if—" Don't say this. Stop. STOP. "—what if I don't want you?"

After he said it, he immediately regretted it. It wasn't true, it was something else talking, some steam screaming its way out of him. What the hell was he doing? He loved Sora; of course he wanted him, needed him.

"…Do you mean that?"

NO! "I don't know what I mean."

"I'll talk to you tomorrow."

"Listen, Sora. I—"

"Bye, Roxas." Sora ended the call.

Roxas thought about breaking his phone in half, thought about plowing into that shiny red corvette. He thought about screaming, tearing the pages out of his stupid fucking textbook. Thought about setting himself on fire. He was flicking his lighter when Axel opened the passenger door and climbed in. Shocked by the suddenness, Roxas sat silently for a few minutes. Axel, hands pressed between his knees, head down, said nothing. Roxas started the truck and felt like crying. They drove back to Kingdom in silence.

As soon as Roxas parked, Axel hopped out of the truck. Roxas wondered if this was normal, his body feverish with fury or regret or a million racing adjectives as he locked up. Axel was crouched behind the truck, body shaking.

"Holy shit, are you okay?" Roxas stared down at the older boy, feeling completely helpless. "Ax?" The redhead rose unsteadily and moved toward Roxas, grabbing him into a shaking hug, his hand sliding into the strands of hair at the back of Roxas' head and pressing the blonde's face into Axel's chest. Roxas felt Axel breathing into his hair, his whole chest vibrating with effort. He smelled like sex. "It's okay," Roxas said, voice muffled by the expanse of Axel's chest. His hands pet Axel's back, soothing, and Roxas felt the panic reserved for Sora bloom bright in his ribcage, next to his heart. Sora's psychotic breaks, little slips into cracks of unreality, and here was Axel falling apart. Axel, who was so strong, who acted so hard.

"I'm sorry," Axel whispered into Roxas' hair, still shaking. Roxas thought of running his finger around the lip of a champagne glass, how the crystal vibrated and sang; trembling, structures collapsing.

--

There were five of them. Five guys Axel would see, never the same one twice in a row. After the third time Roxas tagged along, he started waiting in their living rooms, Axel introducing him as, "a friend." It probably would've been better for his sanity if he stuck to Axel's truck where there was numbing silence or the predictable sounds of a street at night. Instead Roxas endured the creaking of bed springs, the knocking of headboards, and assorted vocalizations of pleasure or domination that were never quite drowned out despite the volume of flatscreens, volume on some dated comedy turned up to a comfortable level that Roxas never dared touch.

Roxas never took Axel for a screamer, and he was right with the exception of one of the guys. A tall brunette, a frightening scar dropping diagonally across the guy's face. Roxas worried that it would be rough, that Axel would come out bleeding and shaking like he had with that sick blue-haired fuck with just as bizarre facial scars, Axel having to hold him back from running inside to kick the bastard's ass, but it was entirely different. The guy—Axel never volunteered any names—gave Roxas a beer and a selection of DVDs before taking Axel down the hall. Hallways had proven to be miraculous, putting enough distance between the fucking and Roxas' ears to save his sanity for a couple hours. Roxas was sprawled over the guy's couch, on a second beer nabbed from the guy's fridge, and navigating the main menu of Constantine when his breath caught. He'd been getting used to the noises: loud elongated moans, gruff commands, degrading remarks… all of them not Axel. He'd secretly been looking forward to it, to hearing Axel get off and how maybe he'd be able to jerk off and listen and imagine, but Axel was quiet. Roxas figured he was all sighs and breath… until this guy.

Thumb hovering over the "play" button on the remote, Roxas had narrowed his eyes, holding his breath. Is that… are they laughing? Axel, who never made any sounds that gave Roxas any indication that he was enjoying himself, who would shake when Roxas drove them back to school, who, after that blue-haired sick fuck, threw up into the street until he dry heaved, arms marked and bleeding. Axel, who, from what Roxas could tell, was physically repulsed by the sex, was actually laughing. Then the moaning started. At first Roxas wasn't sure, tip-toeing over to the front of the hallway and listening, but the curl in the voice, that timbre... that was Axel. Axel, moaning like he was in love. Roxas had anticipated having to wait out an erection, had anticipated being so turned on that he'd be driven to jack off in some stranger's living room, but the reality of it was different. His back slid down the wall of the hallway as he listened, and it felt like air would not enter into his lungs, like he couldn't inhale enough.

When it was clear that the two of them had finished, Roxas crawled toward the couch, selecting a scene from the end of the movie and doing his best to look attentive. When Axel emerged from the hallway, he was positively glowing, his lips pulled up into a smile Roxas had to blink a couple times to believe, the brunette's arm around his shoulder. He's cute, Roxas admitted about the guy, and he felt like crying. They walked to the door and, with Roxas already outside, the guy pulled Axel into a kiss that made Roxas' stomach drop to the floor. Fuck, he thought, not able to look away. Maybe he's in love with this guy. Look at how he's smiling into it. He totally is in love with him. Totally. But when the two of them pulled away, the brunette whispered into Axel's ear. Axel laughed, but Roxas saw how his eyes dimmed, how he went blank inside. Axel said through a laugh, eyes flickering in his direction, "Nah. He's straight."

Roxas would've never gone again if every time Axel was smiling, turning the stereo up and singing loud on the way back, smiling at the way Roxas let the wheel slide in his hands as he made turns, but it was just that guy. The other guys, and the couple of random strangers Axel took into the restroom at Q's, always left the redhead shaking, eyes unreadable. Even if Roxas wanted to, he wouldn't have been able to stop coming with Axel. He didn't like it, but he couldn't stop. The redhead sitting in Roxas' bed, pillow clutched to his chest, and Roxas would sing him choir songs until Axel stilled. He'd talk animatedly about nothing, doing random things like wear socks on his ears, until Axel smiled.

Axel never talked about any of the guys.

--

Roxas had never been so happy to see the end of midterms, a two hour Social Psych final so brutal that a student collapsed outside the lecture hall, a $1.50 cup of coffee clutched in her unresponsive hand as the paramedics pulled up. By the time Roxas spied Axel walking toward the dorm stairs, he was bouncing off the walls, ready to expend some energy at Vista before driving home.

"YES!" the blonde shouted, barreling down the breezeway before Axel stepped into his dorm.

"Hey, I heard about that student passing out. I heard it was a blonde girl. Figured it might've been you, anyway," Axel smirked, winking.

"Oh, ha ha, motherfucker. Can we party now?"

"Wait. You want to party?" Axel looked skeptical. This was Roxas, after all.

"I want to get drunk, dude. I want to get WASTED!" He was shouting. He didn't know why he was shouting. Sora is waiting for you. Axel is going to get fucked while you're gone, and you won't be able to take care of him afterward. No shit, you want to get wasted. "Can we go now? Zexion left a couple minutes ago." Zexion, who Roxas had seen maybe once in the past two weeks, had given Roxas one look that said I Am On The Verge Of A Mental Breakdown before dropping his shit on the floor and turning back out the door, headed for Vista. Roxas didn't blame him; he was an excellent student, and it didn't come from just anywhere. It came from hour after hour of studying in the 24 hour study room on the first floor of the library, the only stimulant present being a bottle of No-Doz.

Axel shrugged and closed the door, mouth quirking. "Alright, man."

Roxas beamed and careened down the stairs. "Hey, so how were your midterms?" he asked, pulling out two cigarettes.

Axel shrugged again. "Hell. I kept getting wars and shit mixed up. I'll be lucky if this doesn't shit all over my GPA."

"What do you have?"

"Like a 3.8 or something. I dunno exactly."

Roxas stopped walking. "What?"

"…What?" A confused smile on the older boy's face.

"You have a fucking 3.8 GPA?" Roxas gaped.

"…Yeah. Is that a bad thing? Not high enough for your I.Q. prerequisite or something?"

"No," Roxas said, embarrassed. "You're just, like, really smart."

"Yeah, well, I try." They started walking again, Axel glancing at the blonde and chuckling. "Why, what do you have?"

Roxas swallowed thickly. Shit. "Not a 3.8, that's for sure." Because I am a fucking imbecile.

"Oh, come on. I bet it's not that bad," Axel said, bumping his arm into Roxas' shoulder.

"OH, look. We're here." Roxas darted inside the front door, nearly plowing into Pence who, somewhat mystifyingly, held a piñata. Def Leppard was blaring over some speakers hooked up to a laptop, a group of people dancing in the living room. Though it was only midterms, a banner proclaiming, "F.I.N.A.L.S – Fuck, I Never Actually Learned this Shit," hung sideways from a wall, drawings of blunts sketched erratically all over it. Suddenly Zexion was in front of him, grabbing him by the neck and exhaling a cloud of pot into his face.

"THE PRODIGAL ROOMMATE!" Zexion was completely fucking gone.

"Hey, man," Roxas said, laughing. So maybe he was too stupid for Axel. He wouldn't fucking cry about it, though. A righteous kind of anger pumped in his veins.

"Dude, we're totally dry! The cops rolled up and threatened Pence because last night they caught drunk freshman coming out the front." Zexion's eyes, peering at Roxas from slitted lids, were completely bloodshot. "And he said he would shoot him, man! The cop said he would shoot him if it happened again!"

"He didn't say that, Zex. He's a cop."

"FUCK YOU, DUDE! HE SO DID!" Roxas couldn't help but laugh. "So there's no alcohol, but Hayner's brother came down from Humbolt with the best weed I have ever fucking smoked, man!" Zexion thrust a bong in his face. "PARTAKE!"

Getting fucked up is the easiest thing in the world. Roxas didn't do it very often, usually having the sense of mind to get drunk without getting wasted, get high without getting completely fucked, but this was a special occasion. If he was A) legitimately stupid, B) probably going to fuck his best friend, and C) never going to have Axel, then why not? Who cares? So you take your poison into your hands, take a deep breath, and consecrate it: fuck it. The motto of the damaged youth, of the bitter and the broken: fuck it. Roxas took the bong and lighter, took a deep breath, shrugged, and said, "Fuck it." Zexion whispered, "The body of Christ," while Roxas inhaled.

Roxas stumbled around stupidly, six tokes in his system, looking for the couches to sit on, before he realized they'd been moved into the kitchen to make room for the impromptu dance floor. He was taking a hit off a joint as another Def Leppard song came on over the speakers, a cry of excitement going up in the crowd as a sick riff electrified every nerve in Roxas' body. He shouted along an approximation of the words, throwing a fist up and getting lost in the group of sweaty, pulsing people. He didn't have a single thought in his head, just a bass kicking his heart in and a chorus that left his lips like a curse. Roxas was pulsing with the crowd when he felt a hand slide around his right hip, settling just below his waist. He titled his head back against a chest and found Axel smiling down at him, green eyes glazed. A feeling of supreme well-being settled over his body, and Roxas swore he melted into the other boy as they screamed the chorus together: "POUR SOME SUGAR ON ME!"

Roxas felt dangerous, like he could do anything, have anyone. It was the pot, he knew it was the pot weighing down his arms, speeding up his breathing, but he turned in Axel's arms anyway, swishing his hips into the older boy's, head titled up to meet Axel's eyes. Dancing. We're just dancing. Roxas wanted to kiss him, wanted to knock him down and fuck him right there. Axel didn't look away as Roxas slid his hips against the redhead's, mouthing the words, cheeks flushed. It was imminent, bound to happen any second; Roxas would close his eyes, and Axel would lean in. It had to happen. Please. Please kiss me. Please. But the song ended, giving way to a burst of hip-hop.

"You're so fucked up," Axel called down to him, and his hand was cupping the blonde's cheek. Roxas wondered when that had happened.

"I-I love you." It just slipped out. Roxas couldn't control it; it made its way up his throat, scrambling, slid over his tongue and swan dove out past his lips. Kamikaze. Suicide.

Axel smiled and leaned down, turning his head, "What?"

Say it again. Tell him. "I need water," Roxas whispered into Axel's ear, lips ghosting over flesh. Axel pulled away and nodded, heading toward the kitchen. I need water? What the FUCK, Roxas? A joint was passed to him, and Roxas took it, inhaling until his fingers burned. Would Axel want to dance with him again? Was it just the song? How long did it take to get water, anyway? The thoughts were all tugged away, sliding from his mind like water off a polished curve; trailing, gone. Roxas pulsed to a song he didn't know, obliging as Kairi danced up and ground against him, leaned back with one hand on his shoulder, crotch digging into his. She pecked him on the lips before dancing away to another guy. Then Hayner walked up, hungry smile on his lips, holding a piece.

"Greens. Hit it," he called over the music, lining the pipe up with Roxas' mouth, lighter ready. Roxas inhaled. He was starting to see colors in the music. "Hey, you meet my brother yet?" Hayner's mouth on his, kissing, asking him questions. I'm so fucked up.

"Huh?' Another inhale, coughing. Hayner kissing him, hand down his pants.

"You should meet my brother, Roxas. He's in the kitchen." Hayner gave him a tiny shove toward the kitchen, and Roxas stumbled his way in, bumping into other partiers. Axel was leaned against the sink, obscured by a blonde. They were making out. Fuck.

"Where's my water at, bitch?" Roxas mumbled, hopping on to the counter next to Axel. What are you doing?

Axel pulled out of the kiss. "Shit. Sorry, Rox. I—"

"Hey," the blonde said, jutting his chin up at Roxas. "Cloud. I'm Hayner's brother."

"Hi," Roxas said. It was almost like looking into a mirror. "Nice weed. Thanks, man."

"Yeah," Cloud said, turning back to Axel, tilting the redhead's chin up and going in to continue their session. Axel turned his head, eyes on Roxas' knees.

"Hey, so… we're going over to his brother's room." Cloud worked at Axel's neck while he spoke to Roxas, eyelids fluttering. "You can… if you want, I mean." Axel raised his eyes, and Roxas felt like screaming.

"Yeah. Let's go."

--

Roxas was in Hayner's computer chair, next to the turntables he wasn't supposed to touch, and Axel was getting his dick sucked, head tossed back. Should he even be watching? He shouldn't be watching. He should be staring at his hands, or his shoes, but he couldn't take his eyes away. It was the hottest thing he'd ever seen. He swallowed, mouth dry, and rubbed his sweaty palms on his thighs, right next to his erection. Fuck.

"It's okay, Rox," Axel said, eyes on him, breathing through an open mouth slack with desire. His green eyes drifted down to Roxas' jeans where it was clear the blonde was enjoying the show. "I don't mind." Past the tendrils of pot unraveling his brain, Roxas understood that Axel was telling him he could jack off if he wanted. He bit his bottom lip hard and wondered if he could make his hands work, a cashed bowl sitting next to him on the turntables he wasn't supposed to touch. Suddenly Cloud was in front of him, pulling him up by the arms and undoing his jeans, pulling them down until his dick slid out, bobbing slightly.

"Stroke it," Cloud said, and Roxas could only think of mirrors as he brought a hand to his erection, stroking. The older blonde pushed him back into the computer chair and returned to Axel, pressing their mouths together, jacking the redhead off slowly. "You want my cock? You want to get fucked?" Axel moaned and nodded, hands sliding over flesh. Roxas thought he might die.

He looks like me. That could be me. Why is it not me? It could be me. Hand pumping, he imagined thin fingers over his body, Axel's mouth against his. It wasn't hard to pretend; Cloud's blonde hair and blue eyes, it wasn't hard at all. Like a really vivid wet dream, and Roxas jacked off slowly as Cloud bent Axel over, hand pressing down on the redhead's back, Axel's face in the sheets. Axel groaned like it was the best thing he'd ever felt, like relief, like being grateful, and Roxas watched him stay hard as he got fucked, dripping pre-come that Roxas could almost taste. Axel's eyes, face and chest driven down again and again as Cloud fucked him into Hayner's mattress, never left Roxas'. When Axel came, groans escalating maddeningly, Roxas thought he would die for sure, like his body wouldn't handle it. He came instead; gasping, one hand gripping the arm of the chair.

Cloud flipped Axel over onto his back, lowered his mouth to Axel's dick and licked up the come while Roxas watched, his body shaking with effort and orgasm. Roxas could only think one thing over and over, disbelief and an endorphin rush on a repeating loop. Oh my god. Oh my god. Cloud glanced up from fingerfucking the redhead and looked at Roxas, Axel's slowly hardening dick slicked with spit.

"Your turn?"

The question sank into his consciousness like a bullet, and Roxas bolted.

--

He wouldn't remember the hundred and fifty miles between him and Sora, just that he showed up with nothing except his keys, his phone, and the clothes he was wearing. Sora had to go down and turn his car off since Roxas left it running, his come dried on the steering wheel.

"Tell me what happened, Roxas." Sora stroking his hair, and he was wearing a pair of Sora's boxers that he couldn't remember putting on.

"I watched," Roxas mumbled, feeling the negation of every feeling in the world. "I wanted him to love me." He didn't. There's something wrong with me. Cloud looks just like me, just older. Smarter, maybe. Better. I'm… there's something wrong with me. "What's wrong with me, Sora?"

"Nothing," Sora whispered fiercely, kissing his cheek. "There is nothing wrong with you. You're perfect, and I love you. Fuck everyone else." Sora kissed his cheek again, crawling into bed and pulling Roxas right up against him, their chests touching. "You feel that?" Sora whispered, staring into Roxas' eyes. "It's our heartbeat. There's only one."

"Do you feel that, then?" Roxas asked, breathing shallow. His chest felt blown open, a victim of war.

"Yes," Sora whispered. "You hurt, I hurt."

"It feels like dying," Roxas whispered, squeezing his eyes shut. "Can you feel it?" He didn't know what he was saying anymore.

"Yes," Sora cried, shaking. "You die, I die."

Roxas didn't know how it was possible for him to fall asleep, but he woke up wrapped around Sora, arms pressing the boy into his chest like clutching a lifesaver. There was a moment of sheer unreality where he didn't realize who he was, that he'd been away at school. Instead he and Sora were lovers, waking up on a Spring morning out in the country, everything pleasant and warm, golden sunshine streaming in. Reality was like a backhand across the face, and Roxas saw stars as he looked at himself in the bathroom mirror, feeling like he'd been fucked by a freight train, looking like he'd taken a beating from a bus. Sora walked up behind him, sliding his arms around the blonde's waist.

"Morning," Sora said around a yawn, resting his chin on Roxas' shoulder and staring at their reflections.

"Hi." Roxas placed his arms over Sora's, felt goosebumps rise on the other boy's skin.

"I bought you the emo cereal," Sora whispered in his ear. Roxas would have liked to laugh, would have liked to point out the sappy emo love speech Sora had spouted last night, but tears sprang to his eyes. It's just cereal. Cinnamon Toast Crunch. Big deal. Fucking crybaby.

"Are those happy?" Sora asked, eyes on their reflection, finger lifting away a tear that ran down the blonde's cheek.

"Yes," Roxas whispered.

They held hands down the stairs, Sora leading him down and talking happily about how he finished his sack, and no, he wouldn't smoke anymore unless Roxas wanted to, and yes, he'd talked to Riku yesterday.

"He wants to hang out later, all three of us. Are you down?" Sora was in his lap, feeding the both of them out of the same bowl, the same spoon. The milk would trickle out of Roxas' mouth, and Sora would scoop it up with the spoon like Roxas was a toddler.

"I feel like shit, Sora."

"We don't have to do anything. I'll blow up a chair for you and you can relax in the pool." Roxas didn't know what "anything" meant. We don't have to fuck each other? Love each other? He eyed the cereal wearily and Sora grinned, pouring another bowl. "What do you think, Rox? Are you down?"

They needed to talk about it, that was clear, but he couldn't think straight. Axel, hard and moaning, sat on the other side of every blink Roxas took. "I'm really fucked up right now. I'll be honest. I'm fucked up, and I'd like to have sex with you." Roxas was scared to meet Sora's eyes. Sick fuck. Pervert.

"We can do it now, if you want." Sora, all smiles, sucking happily on the spoon. "I've been wanting to make you come for months now, Roxie."

Roxas tried hard not to shout. "How the fuck are you so calm about it, Sora? Doesn't that freak you out? That I want to fuck you? You're my best friend, and I want to fuck you. That's… it's retarded, is what it is."

"It's not," Sora said, lifting the blonde's chin with the spoon. "Do you really want to fuck me? I mean," a pause, Sora gnawing on his lip, "Do you see me that way? You want me like that?"

Do I? Don't I? He saw Axel again, Cloud thrusting into him. He swallowed, motioning for more cereal. "I don't know."

Sora frowned, rubbing a thumb over the blonde's cheek. "How do you not know if you want to fuck me or not?"

"W-well," Roxas began, swallowing a mouthful of cereal. "Do you want to… y'know. Do you want to fuck me?"

Sora studied him for a moment, thinking. "Yeah." Roxas felt his heart rate spike. "But you don't turn me on. Does that make sense? Unless I think about fucking you, then—" Sora paused, grabbing Roxas' hand and putting it to the boxers he was wearing. He was hard. "See? I love you, but I'm not in love with you. I would like to have sex with you, but what I really want is to watch you come. Watch you watch me make you come." Sora grinned. "Make sense?"

The warmth under his hand twitched and Roxas felt like he was going insane. "No. It makes no fucking sense at all." His hand rubbing Sora's erection; that also made no sense. Sora's eyes closing, mouth opening and letting fly a breathy moan; that made no sense at all. "I'm not in love with you either, I don't think," Roxas tried, brow furrowed as he tried to gather his thoughts as he stroked Sora's cock. "I love you. I'll love you forever. But I still want to do this to you. Is that wrong?"

"Nn—" Sora moaned, arching, spoon clattering to the countertop. "I say it's h-healthy curiosity."

"I'm not curious, Sora. I want you."

"Why?" Sora, bucking into his hand.

"I want…" he began. What do I want? I don't know. "I want to make you come, too. I want to make you happy. I want you to love me." I want Axel. I want everyone. I'm a fucking slut.

"I already love you. You al-already m-make me happy," Sora panted, a hand on the back of Roxas' neck.

"I'm so fucking confused, Sora. What are we doing?" He couldn't stop. His hand wouldn't stop, and he was hard in his pair of Sora's boxers.

"We're getting off," Sora said, getting to his feet and pulling Roxas' boxers down. Roxas spread his legs and watched his cock disappear into his best friend's mouth. It was the most beautiful thing he'd ever seen. What was Axel thinking while that guy went down on him? Was he imagining it was me?

"No," Roxas said.

Sora pulled off, lips wet. "What?"

"Nothing."

"Can you slide your hips forward a little bit?" Roxas inched forward, raising a leg and putting it on a chair. "Perfect," Sora said, tongue darting out, licking his ass. Roxas almost jumped a mile. "You like that?" Sora smiled, working the area more thoroughly. Riku had definitely never put his mouth there. His dick, yes, his mouth, no. Roxas squirmed against Sora's mouth.

"It… tickles," Roxas said, giggling.

"You like it," Sora said, sticking a finger in his mouth. "This," he said, wiggling the finger, "is going in." Sora's mouth lowered to his cock again, and the spit slicked finger prodded at him, teasing. Sora knew exactly what he was doing, finger twisting and turning its way in until it reached a place that made Roxas feel like disintegrating.

"Fuck."

"Mm, you like it," Sora said, mouth full of cock. Sora rubbed the spot, tiny circles it felt like, and Roxas' whole body shook. "Now?" Sora asked, and the vibrations against his dick sent Roxas over the edge. Sora felt the blonde freeze up and he pulled off, replacing his mouth with a hand. Sora watched with no small amout of wonder as he fingered Roxas and stroked the orgasm out of him, come cascading down his hand in a thick pearlescent spill. When Roxas was finished, Sora took him in his mouth again, bobbing until the blonde was limp.

Roxas panted in his chair, arms and legs completely useless. "Th-that… that was…"

"You liked it!" Sora said, ecstatic. "I was worried you wouldn't. I was like 95% sure that I could make you come, but then I wondered if you'd be too freaked out because… well, because it's me, even though I give really good head. Like really good. I'm better than Riku, right?"

Roxas watched Sora talk in disbelief. "Y-yeah. I… uh," he babbled.

"You are so cute when you orgasm, Rox. You have no idea how cute."

It was like being hit in the face with a frying pan. He couldn't think straight. "I love you."

"I LOVE YOU!" Sora shouted, squeezing him into a hug. Roxas vaguely registered that they were both completely naked, Sora still hard, a half-eaten bowl of cereal in front of them. "So," Sora said, straddling his lap. "Still want to fuck me?" Roxas opened his mouth to respond, but he realized the desire was gone. It was just Sora. Yes, Sora naked and erect and utterly fuckable, but he didn't feel that gut-twisting desire. "I bet the answer is, 'Noooo,'" Sora sang, bouncing in his lap.

"A-are you insulted?"

"Idiot!" Sora said, tugging on his hair. "No, I'm not insulted. Damn, are you twelve? You were just horny, Roxie." Sora wiggled his fingers in Roxas' face, one hand still sticky with come. "The male mind is a dark place, Rox. It knows no bounds. One time Riku told me he thought about having sex with his dad, man. And our first inclination is to be like, 'Fucking gross, man!' But… it's just being horny. I get horny over toast."

"Stop," Roxas said. "Don't say that word."

"What? Horny?"

"YES! Don't say it; it drives me crazy."

"Horrrrrrnnyyyyy," Sora sang, dodging a swat Roxas aimed at him. "So, yeah. We get 'turned on,' if you like that better, by anything." Sora giggled, "Everything… or, maybe not every everything. Weird things, though. The important thing is not to act on the ones that are socially unacceptable. That's what separates like pedophiles from… I dunno, horny teenage girls."

"…You've been seeing your therapist a lot haven't you?"

"Twice a week for the last two months," Sora laughed. Like bells. Like sunshine.

"So… does this mean I can take care of that for you?" Roxas asked, eyeing Sora's erection.

"My therapist—you remember Dr. Ben, right?—would say that I'm engaging in reckless behavior operating under the semblance of reality. Because I guess a world where you want to suck my dick is a world that can't be this one."

Roxas eyed Sora thoughtfully, smiling, then got to his knees. "Yeah? Well I like our make-believe world. Your make-believe cock and my make-believe mouth look like they're going to get along just fine."

When Sora came in his mouth, Roxas felt completely sane. Completely sane in his non-world with Sora, their non-world where it was okay for him to suck his best friend off and feel completely sane about it. His hands didn't shake at all in his non-world. In their non-world they finished the cereal and moved on to making banana pancakes, dousing each other in handfuls of batter. After eating their fill, sticky with come and batter, they showered together, Sora insisting on scrubbing Roxas' hair. Later, when Riku came over, they talked it all out. It was just sex, and while Sora and Roxas loved each other, this was about lust, about getting off. Sora and Riku, though, that was about love. They went upstairs and had make up sex while Roxas floated around the pool on the chair Sora said he'd inflate for him. He was only peripherally turned on, one hand stroking his abdomen absently.

He probably called me. He should have. If he didn't, then he doesn't really like me. Roxas would've liked a tequila shot or a nicely packed bowl or at least a pair of sunglasses, feeling the heat of the sun sink into his closed lids, everything a searing red, the color of the inside of flesh. The color of his hair. Just friends, weren't they? Friends with Sora, too. Roxas splashed at the water. They'd gone over this. He was just complicating it in his head again, tangling the lines of everybody. It didn't have to be complicated. It could be the easiest thing in the world. Just be friends with him. He's too fucked up for you to handle, anyway. And you for him. Just let it go.

Everything is easier in theory, running plans over in your mind. Everything sounds better, easier, when you think about it in your head, mulling over how you'll react when he does that, what you'll say when he says this. Roxas thought he had it covered, that he could be friends with Axel, that he could cut off the part that danced with him like the prelude to fucking, the part that said he loved him. Cut it off, toss it out. He couldn't do it, couldn't he? Did it with Riku. I could do it again.

It was a cruel joke, probably—some final slap in the face by Fate—that it was right after this thought Riku emerged from the house completely naked, torso glistening with what was probably Sora's come. Roxas' mouth went dry. Riku winked at Roxas and dove into the pool, the thrash of his entrance knocking Roxas off his floating chair. Riku swam over to him, hauling him above the water, and Roxas felt like he was getting his ass kicked all the way back to square one.

"You okay?" Riku had an excellent smile.

"FUCK!" Roxas shouted, splashing erratically in the water. Riku's face was drawn up in surprise, droplets clinging to his face and hair. Roxas wanted to kiss him.

"Water up your nose?" Riku asked, tweaking Roxas' nose.

Roxas snapped playfully at the other boy's hand with his teeth, pulling a face. "Come in your mouth?"

"More like your mouth, you little slut."

"I'm gunna tell him you called me a slut. He'll beat you with that pitcher of—BEER!" Roxas exclaimed, hauling himself up the side of the pool, floundering like a beached whale.

"Where?!" Sora asked comically, looking around.

"What a burn, dude. I was all excited." Roxas brought the pitcher to his mouth, hesitating before taking a sip. "Is this iced tea? Because that is gross."

"If by 'gross' you mean 'fucking awesome," Sora said, plucking the pitcher out of Roxas' hand, setting it aside… and plowing the blonde into the pool. Underwater, bubbles of air streaming out of Sora's nose, Roxas found that the world made more sense. Above water everything was too loud, too bright and forceful, demanding explanations and answers. Underwater was an inversion, a submersion; everything upside down. Everything floating; vaguely dream-like, and silence distorting the sounds of things. His entire life, screaming for air with burning lungs. His entire life, turning somersaults underwater.